Love Comes Unexpectedly
by autumnrose2010
Summary: Princess Mary knew that she had every reason to hate George Boleyn. After all, his family had destroyed her mother's life. Yet why did her heart beat faster every time she saw him?
1. A Chance Encounter

"I will never acknowledge any other woman as Queen but my mother." Those words had sentenced her to a life of hardship, but she refused to take them back.

She had been a Princess once, dressed in finery, with servants to wait on her hand and foot. Now she was a servant herself, forced to live in the humblest of quarters at Hatfield House in attendance to the whore's daughter, Elizabeth. She would never consider that child to be her sister.

She had seen him around court a few times, usually in the company of the whore. The first time she had laid eyes on him, her heart had skipped a beat. When she had asked around and found out who he was, she simply couldn't believe it. How could that whore, the woman who had bewitched her father and stolen her mother's rightful place at his side, have a brother who was so breathtakingly captivating?

Once he had caught her staring at him and smiled at her. Her heart had almost stopped. _George Boleyn smiled at me. _She had felt as if she were walking on clouds for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>He knew who she was, of course, although they had never actually spoken to one another. He felt deep pity for her; she was so young to have had her world torn apart as it had been. To him she was like a beautiful bird whose wings had been clipped. He had often wondered what it would be like to touch her hair, her face. He knew he didn't dare approach her or attempt to speak with her. She must really hate him, as she hated his sister, and who could blame her?<p>

* * *

><p>He wouldn't have visited Hatfield House that day, except that he had heard that his little niece, Elizabeth, was ill. He certainly didn't expect to run into Mary there, as she would normally be in her own quarters reading or praying. Yet when he entered, Elizabeth's regular nanny was nowhere to be seen, and Mary herself held the little girl, who was sniffling. Mary startled when she heard the door open, then seemed a bit relieved to see that it was him.<p>

"She was crying, and there was no one else here to pick her up," she explained hesitantly.

"That's fine," he told her with a smile. "Hi, Bessie. Come to Uncle George," he urged the baby, who readily held her arms out to him. Mary glanced around nervously, expecting Anne to materialize any second. When she didn't, Mary quickly turned to go back to her quarters, leaving Elizabeth in George's care.

George chuckled. "It's all right, Mary. You don't have to leave just because I'm here." His voice sounded so friendly that she turned to look at him, her heart in her throat.

"I've been wanting to say hello to you forever but wasn't quite sure how to go about it. I'm Anne's brother, George."

"I know." They stood staring at one another awkwardly for a few seconds.

"She's beautiful, isn't she? Looks just like her father...your father. You favor him as well."

"I thought you hated me," she mumbled, looking at the floor.

"Of course I don't. Why should I?"

"Because I refuse to acknowledge your sister as Queen. She certainly hates me, and never lets an opportunity pass to show me that fact."

George sighed. "I'm so sorry, Mary. I know this whole situation has been so difficult for you, but I don't hate you, and neither does Anne. She'd love to be your friend, and so would I."

"I know exactly what I'd have to do to have her as a friend, and that's something I'll never do. I love my mother too much." Fighting back tears, she refused to let him see her cry.

"I know you do, Mary." His voice was soft with sympathy. "I love my mother, too."

An awkward silence prevailed once more. She chewed her bottom lip. He had to resist the urge to give her a reassuring hug. He certainly didn't want to frighten her away.

"Mary, I know how you feel about my sister. I just want to let you know that I understand and I'm not angry about that, and that my offer of friendship still stands." Mary finally smiled, a tiny smile. He smiled back at her and her heart just melted. Elizabeth's regular nanny appeared, interrupting the intimacy of the moment.

"I'm so glad I finally got the chance to talk to you, Mary. Maybe we can talk again soon."

"Maybe. That would be nice." Her smile was much broader this time. He patted her shoulder affectionately before he left. She went to bed with a smile on her face that night.


	2. Picnic

Mary was in a foul mood. She had had a bad dream the night before, Elizabeth was teething again so of course was crankier than usual, and Mary had a painful splinter in one finger that she had so far been unsuccessful at extracting. George Boleyn hadn't even entered her mind so far, so she was pleasantly surprised when he suddenly appeared on horseback with a basket in one hand and a smile on his face.

"I thought it would be a lovely day for a picnic," he explained.

"Oh, of course..." She stood up so quickly that she knocked the chair she had been sitting in over, and he burst out laughing. She blushed furiously, turning her face away so that he wouldn't see.

She joined him on horseback, and they rode out to a clearing on the grounds of Hatfield, where they spread the quilt on the ground together and began to set out the food.

"Do you make a habit of this?" Mary asked.

"Of going picnicking with pretty girls? Why, all the time, of course!" He grinned.

Mary felt herself blushing furiously again, and this time there was no way to hide the fact.

"Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"You're more than just pretty, Mary. You're beautiful!"

She laughed. "I'll bet you say that to all the girls."

"No, only the beautiful ones."

"Have you known a lot of beautiful girls, George?"

"I've known a few."

Mary instinctively began to chew on the finger with the splinter.

"Is there something wrong with your finger?"

"Oh." Embarrassed, she snatched the finger from her mouth and sat on it. "It's got a splinter in it, and it really hurts."

"Let me see." He sounded very concerned. Reluctantly she showed him the finger. Deftly, he squeezed the splinter between the fingernails of two fingers and it came right out.

"That was amazing!" Mary really was impressed.

"I'm so glad I could be of assistance."

"I'm very grateful to you as well. It was causing me a lot of pain."

"Well, if there's one thing I simply can't abide, it's to see a beautiful girl in pain."

She giggled self-consciously, then grew very serious. "There are much worse pains than a splinter in one's finger."

An awkward silence followed.

"How's your mother?" George asked gently.

"He won't let me see her." Mary was near tears. "He believes that if we were allowed to be in contact that we would plot together against him."

"I'm so sorry, Mary. I don't believe that what he's doing is right, but I don't think there would be any use in bringing it up to him now, as I think that it would only make him angry. He's going through a lot of changes right now, as we all are, and he just needs some time to adjust. I really think that things are going to be all right, Mary. You just have to be patient."

"Things are _never _going to be all right until he returns to my mother and the true church," Mary said glumly.

"Tell me, what's she like? I've never met her."

"Why, she's the most wonderful mother anyone could ever hope to have. She's completely devoted to my father, and to God. That's why I simply can't see how my father could just casually toss her aside as he has."

"She must truly be a remarkable woman. I daresay there must be a lot of her in you."

"For me, there would be no higher honor than to be as much like my mother as possible." She thought of something. "What's your mother like, George?"

"She's a very gracious and kind lady. She was a lady-in-waiting to your grandmother Elizabeth of York, and later to your mother as well. She's very different from my father. All she's ever wanted out of life has been to care for her husband and children. I think you'd really like her if you met her."

"Are you very close to her then?"

"Anne and I both are. Mary less so as she disapproves of her marriage to William Stafford."

"If he makes her happy then she should give her blessing."

George smiled. "Just between you and me, I agree with you completely, Mary."

"I was always very close to my mother." Mary stared at the ground for a long time without saying anything more.

"I really hate to see you so sad, Mary," George said. "I truly wish that there were something I could do to help you."

Mary looked at him with mournful eyes. "Other than Eustace Chapuys, I have no one now. I'm all alone in the world."

George put his hand over hers. "That's not true anymore, Mary. You have me now as well."


	3. Davastating News

George began to visit Mary at Hatfield on an almost daily basis. They went horseback riding, had picnics, and took long walks in the gardens or beside the lake. Sometimes they brought scraps of bread to feed the ducks.

"My life here was so dreary until you started coming to visit me," Mary told George one day.

"I'm so glad to be able to bring joy into your life," George replied. "You've certainly suffered more than you deserve."

Something in her smile, in the way the wind gently lifted strands of her hair, tugged at his heart.

"May I kiss you, Mary?"

"Why, of course!" Mary's heart began to thump madly. She fervently hoped that he couldn't tell. As he gently lifted her chin and softly kissed her lips, an icy shiver went down her spine. It was as if she had been transported to another world, one of sunshine and rainbows.

For several days in a row George didn't visit Hatfield. Mary missed him and worried about him. She hoped that he hadn't fallen ill. Another fear, which she tried desperately to push from her mind, was that he may have become enamored with a lady at court.

It was with a mixture of relief and dread that she finally saw him arrive one day. He greeted her warmly and seemed genuinely happy to see her, which made her feel slightly better. However, he seemed unnaturally quiet during the visit, which perturbed her. She tried to ignore it at first but finally could bear it no longer.

"You seem unusually quiet, George. I feel that something weighs heavily on your mind. Would you care to share it with me?"

Mary felt her stomach turn over as she watched emotions flicker across George's face. "I may as well tell you now," he said at last, obviously with great reluctance. "It wouldn't be right to keep it from you. My daughter was born several days ago."

It was as if Mary had been struck by a bolt of lightning. "Your..._daughter?"_

"Yes. Her name is Emily."

Mary choked back tears. She was determined not to let him see her cry. She turned and ran back toward her quarters as fast as her legs could carry her.

"Mary! Wait!" George called after her, but she ignored him.

Throwing herself across her bed, she gave in to the great sobs wracking her body. She couldn't believe how foolish she had been to think that he could actually have cared for her. When she had cried until no more tears would come, she began to pray.

"Dear Lord, I have made a huge mistake. I have allowed myself to care for a man whom I should have known better than to love. After all, his sister is a whore. How could I have ever expected him to be any different? Now he has informed me that he has known another woman carnally, that she has borne his child. For all I know he may be secretly married to her. And all this time I thought that he sincerely cared for me, that he was chaste as I am."

To her surprise, George returned to visit again the next day. She couldn't believe that he would actually have the nerve to do so. She saw the look of hurt and confusion on his face as she turned away from him and was determined not to let it affect her.

Several more times over the next few days she noticed him looking at her with longing in his eyes and refused to acknowledge it. Then one day Eustace Chapuys arrived with devastating news.

"Your blessed mother is near death," Eustace told Mary. "The King has given permission for you to visit her one last time."

"I must go to her right away!" Mary cried.

Mary was shocked at the change in her mother's appearance. The normally strong and stoic Katherine looked so weak and helpless that it broke her daughter's heart. Katherine's eyes lit up when she saw Mary.

"My Mary," she said, reaching for her.

"I came just as soon as I heard," Mary cried, running into her mother's arms. "Mother, please don't leave me!"

"The Lord is calling me to His side. He has a beautiful mansion prepared for me above, far away from this world of sorrow and woe. Treasure my memory in your heart, dear child, and never forget how much I love you."

"I won't, Mother. I promise."

"Cling to God and to His church, my child. Fill your life with prayer and strive daily to do all that He calls you to do. Pray the rosary that He will bring you a husband equally devoted to Him and His true church. I wish you a long and prosperous life, my darling daughter."

"I love you, Mother. Please don't go!"

"I love you, darling Mary. May God bless you and keep you until we meet again in heaven."

"Oh, Mother!" Mary clung to Katherine and refused to let go until gentle hands were pulling her away and covering Katherine's face with the sheet. Mary sobbed until she could cry no more.

Upon her return to Hatfield, the first thing she saw was George waiting for her with mournful eyes. Her previous bewilderment and hurt over him vanished, and all she could think about was how badly she wanted his arms around her. How she ached for him to hold her.

"George." She took a step in his direction, and instantly his arms were around her, stroking her, comforting her. She clung to him as if she were drowning and he was a raft, felt his lips kiss her hair, heard his whispered words of comfort.


	4. Something In Common

"So did he let you see her, then? I had hoped he would. I begged and begged him to do so."

Mary took a step back and looked at George in shock. Could it really be true? Had it been George who had convinced her father to let her see her mother again before she died?

"You did?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Yes. I couldn't bear the thought of how much pain it would bring you for your mother's death to occur before you had the chance to see her one last time."

"Oh, George!" Overwhelmed with emotion, Mary hugged him tightly.

"Easy, easy," he laughed, patting her back gently. Mary stepped back and looked into his eyes, which were twinkling with tender amusement yet soft with sympathy at the same time.

"Tell me about her," she said hesitantly, a hint of trepidation in her voice.

"I tried to before, but you ran away before I had the chance to," he reminded her.

"I'm sorry for running away."

"It's all right. Perfectly understandable, considering the rather abrupt way I told you about her." George took Mary's hand and they began to walk. "Her name is Frances Guilford. She was a new arrival at court, and for me it was lust at first sight. I considered it a casual fling, a diversion. I wasn't at all prepared for how I would feel when she told me that she was with child. To my complete surprise, I was simply thrilled at the thought of being a father. I can't say that I truly loved Frances, but I would have been more than willing to marry her in order to legitimize our child. However, that was not to be. Frances told me that her father had arranged for her to marry into French nobility and move to France, where her child would be born and raised."

"I can't begin to tell you the agony it was for me to know that I wouldn't be able to raise my child, that she would instead be raised by a Frenchman whom I don't even know. Frances told me that I may begin exchanging letters with Emily as soon as she's old enough to write. I suppose that was generous of her." He laughed sharply.

Mary saw the pain in George's eyes and felt genuinely sad for him. She knew that he had done wrong by giving in to his passion, but she could see that he was genuinely hurt by the consequences of his actions.

"You're separated from your daughter just as I was separated from my mother, then," she remarked. The similarity of their respective situations had just occurred to her.

"Exactly." The thought seemed to have just occurred to George as well.

"So we have something in common, then," Mary said softly.

"Thank you for being so understanding about it," George said. "Listen, Mary, I have something important that I want to discuss with you. In the time I've gotten to know you I've come to truly care for you. I enjoy spending time with you, and I admire your intelligence and respect your high moral standards. Dare I hope that you have similar feelings for me?"

Despite her overwhelming grief at the loss of her mother, Mary felt as if a ray of hope was at last shining on her heart. Although she still felt some ambivalence about George, a part of her clung to the attraction she felt for him and the bond she had begun to develop with him.

"I'm deeply grateful to you for persuading my father to allow me to see my mother," Mary said. "And I enjoy spending time with you as well."

Silence followed, finally to be broken by George.

"But?"

"But...well, after all, you _are _my step uncle. That makes you family, so wouldn't it be incest for us to wed?"

"Oh, _that." _George laughed with relief. "I don't think it matters, Mary. We aren't related by blood, and we didn't even know one another until you were an adult. I think that in that situation it wouldn't qualify as incest."

Mary thought about what George had just said and decided that it made sense.

"But that isn't the only issue," Mary said. "Before my mother died, she asked me to pray the rosary that God would bring me a husband as devoted to Him and His true church as I am."

"I was raised the same way you were, Mary," George said quietly. "I believe in the Holy Trinity just as you do."

"But you don't accept the authority of the Pope."

"Well...no, I don't.'

"Yet my mother did, as do I."

George sighed. "He's only a man, Mary. He was conceived and born just as you and I were, not as Jesus was. How then can you believe that he's infallible?"

"Because he was especially appointed by God."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because it's what the Church teaches."

"And how do you know that what the Church teaches is correct?"

"It's a mortal sin to question the authority of the Church!" Mary was outraged. George was unperturbed.

"Mary, I respect your beliefs and admire your faith, but I'm afraid I simply don't share your loyalty to the Pope."

"It's because of Anne, isn't it?" Mary's voice rose in pitch as she became more upset. "She lured you away from the true faith just because the Pope wouldn't give his consent for my father to divorce my mother and marry her!"

"No, Mary, it isn't like that at all," George said mildly. "I don't let my sister do my thinking for me. I think for myself."

"It was _exactly _like that!" Mary, near tears, turned from George and ran for the safety of her quarters at Hatfield House.

"Mary, wait!" George called after her, but she was already gone.


	5. Motherly Advice

As soon as Mary was safely within the walls of Hatfield once more, she grabbed her rosary, threw herself prostrate before the altar, and began to pray. She had no idea how long she prayed and cried, as she lost all track of time. Suddenly something remarkable happened; so remarkable, in fact, that Mary couldn't say for sure whether she was awake or dreaming when it occurred.

Her mother appeared before her, not as she had been when Mary had last seen her, but as she had been when in the full bloom and health of youth. Katherine wore a long robe of dazzling white, and she was smiling serenely.

"Mother!" Mary cried with joy.

"Mary." Her mother walked toward her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I've come to tell you not to be afraid to take George Boleyn as your husband. He's a good man. You can't judge him by his father and sister."

"But Mother, your last words to me were to pray the rosary that God would send me a husband as devoted to Him and His true church as I am."

"Since entering heaven's glory, I have learned that adherence to the Pope isn't nearly as important as I believed it to be while on earth," Katherine told her daughter. "I have looked into George's heart and I can tell you without doubt that he truly cares for you and will treat you well."

"But Mother, he has also fathered a child out of wedlock. Having done so, how can I be sure that he will be faithful to me?"

"He made a mistake, Mary. He allowed his passions to override his good judgement. He regrets his actions and he sincerely loves his little daughter, even though he can't be with her right now."

"So do you believe that George would be a good father as well?"

"I'm certain of it, Mary. Please hearken unto my words, and peace be unto you." With that Katherine was gone.

Mary's heart had felt as heavy as lead, but now it seemed as light as a feather. She couldn't wait to see George again. As it turned out, the next time she saw him, he was walking the grounds of Hatfield. Her heart sank when she saw that he held the arm of an attractive brunette who was obviously with child. Before she could react he called to her.

"Mary!" He approached her with a welcoming smile on his face. "I don't believe you've met my other sister, Mary Stafford."

"How do you do." George's sister smiled warmly and extended her hand as relief flooded through Mary. "George has told me all about you."

"Only good things, I hope," Mary said light-heartedly.

"Of course!" George laughed, and both women joined in.

Sensing that the other two wanted to be alone, Mary Stafford quickly excused herself and walked away.

"Tell me something, Mary," George began. "How on earth shall I ever have a conversation with you when you keep running away from me?"

Mary giggled, embarrassed. "I'm very sorry for running away," she said in a small voice.

"That's perfectly all right," George chuckled. "I'm sorry to have upset you."

"I wanted to tell you that it's all right," Mary told him. She felt very hesitant about mentioning her mother's visit to him, as she was afraid he might think her mad.

"So by that do you mean that you don't hold it against me that I don't share your allegiance to the Pope?"

Mary nodded. George looked jubilant.

"Well, then, in that case..." George dropped to one knee. "Mary Tudor, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

"Yes. Oh, yes!" Mary cried eagerly. Laughing with joy, George sprang to his feet and embraced her tightly.


	6. From This Day Forward

Just then Mary thought of something. "What about my father? What if he should forbid us to wed?"

"I've already asked him, and he's given us not only his permission but his blessing." George's expression changed and became more serious. "Dearest Mary, you know that I would never pressure you to do anything against your will, but before he would give his permission for us to wed, your father made me promise that I would persuade you to sign the oath."

The ecstasy Mary had felt only moments before vanished completely to be replaced by feelings of utter desolation. Tears sprang to her eyes as she stared at the floor.

"Mary, my love, please listen to me." George gently lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "I swear to you that I'm still on your side. As I said, your father refused to give his consent for the marriage to proceed unless I gave him my word. Please believe me when I say that it sounded every bit as repulsive to me as it sounds to you, but it was the only way he would let me marry you. I simply _must _marry you, Mary. Otherwise I'll go mad." Mary saw the pain in his eyes and knew that he spoke the truth. With a sigh of reluctance, she conceded that their happiness would be marred by this unpleasant fact from the very beginning.

Nevertheless, the excitement of preparing for her upcoming nuptials soon vanished all melancholy from Mary's mind. _This is really going to happen, _she told herself as she was fitted for her wedding gown. _I'm really about to become George Boleyn's wife and, hopefully soon afterwards, the mother of his children. _

The day before she was to be wed, Mary saw the look in George's eyes as he hurried to Hatfield House to meet her and knew that something was terribly wrong. A wave of apprehension washed over her as she rushed to him.

"I'm so sorry, Mary," George said. "I must request that you agree for our wedding to be postponed for a few days only, a week at the very most. You see..." He paused to catch his breath. "Anne has just today miscarried. She has lost the King's child."

A part of Mary was fiercely glad to hear of the whore's failure to give her father a son. In her mind's eye, she kept seeing her mother's face as it had looked on her death bed, how pale, wan, and totally defeated she had looked. What vengeful satisfaction it was to realize that Anne may ultimately fail just as her own mother had failed! Yet, Mary realized how much George loved his sister and how important it therefore was that her pleasure at Anne's misfortune not show.

"I'm truly sorry to hear of her loss." Mary forced her voice to sound as doleful as possible.

"As my sister's loss is so recent and so bitter, I'm sure you can understand how inappropriate it would be for me to make merry and celebrate at this time," George continued. Mary nodded wordlessly.

"Mary, my darling, you'll never know how grateful I am for your understanding in this matter." George smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Mary cried herself to sleep that night.

Three days later, George and Mary were wed in the small chapel at Hatfield House. Anne had recovered sufficiently from her miscarriage to attend, and Mary Stafford and her husband William were there also, as were Thomas and Elizabeth Boleyn. King Henry refused to attend, as Mary hadn't yet agreed to sign the oath. Mary put on a brave face for the sake of her guests.

George was elegant in his gold doublet and firs, and Mary was beautiful in her lacy white gown.

"Welcome to the family," Elizabeth Boleyn told Mary as she gave her a warm hug.

"Thank you," Mary said shyly, glancing at George, who was grinning from ear to ear.

That night, Mary waited with anticipation in her bedchambers for George. She had gone over this night so many times in her mind, wondering what it would be like, and now that it was finally here, her excitement knew no bounds.

She jumped slightly when he finally entered, causing him to chuckle softly with gentle amusement. Wearing only his nightshirt, he came to her and began to kiss her, to touch her.

The gentle caress of his fingers on her skin awakened desire within her, and her breath quickened. George touched her in ways she had never before been touched, and her body responded eagerly to his ministrations. The things he was doing felt so marvelous that Mary forgot to be afraid. Her hands caressed his body as well, stroking his back, his chest, his belly. Her fingers lightly touched the hardness between his legs and she heard him gasp.

"Am I doing this right?" she whispered anxiously.

"Oh, yes..." he moaned. He positioned himself on top of her, and she felt him gently probe her entrance. She felt a sudden sharp pain and gasped, and then he was all the way inside her and the pain was gone.

Afterwards they lay cuddling with Mary's head on George's shoulder and his hand gently rubbing up and down the bare flesh of her back, sending tiny shivers of pleasure up and down her spine.

"Did I satisfy you?" George asked.

"Yes," Mary replied. There was an awkward silence while Mary gathered the courage to ask him the question she was dying to know the answer to. "Was I as good as she was?"

"Oh, Mary." George chuckled softly and squeezed her tightly. "There's no comparison. With her it was simply lust fulfilled, nothing more. With you it was truly an act of love. I _do _love you, Mary, very much. You know that, don't you?" He sounded anxious to reassure her.

"Of course I do, George. I love you very much as well." Suddenly Mary was softly crying.

"What's wrong, love? Did I hurt you?" George asked anxiously.

"Oh no, nothing like that. It's just that...you'd think a father would at least want to watch his daughter get married even if he wasn't pleased with her, wouldn't you?"

"My precious love." George's voice was heavy with tenderness as he hugged her tightly and showered her face with kisses. He simply didn't know the words to say that would comfort her. He was furious at Henry but felt completely helpless to do anything at all about it. After all, Henry was the King, and one never openly criticized the King under any circumstances.


	7. The Oath

"I just can't believe that it isn't a dream, that you're really and truly here with me." It was the morning after their wedding night, and George and Mary lay cuddling together in bed. George laughed affectionately, and his arms around Mary tightened as he kissed the tip of her nose. She felt his fingers softly caress her back, and she stretched her body and curled and then straightened her toes. She loved the way he smelled, sweetly musky and a little bit wild.

"I wish I could just stay like this forever," she sighed.

"You can stay like this for as long as you want. There's no hurry," George murmured.

"When I'm lying here with you like this, I just can't help but feel that everything's going to be all right." George's fingers were gently massaging the muscles in the back of her neck now, and it felt simply marvelous.

"Everything _will _be all right, darling." George chuckled softly. "Just be patient and have faith."

King Henry had given George Beaulieu Palace as a primary residence, and Mary also had a new title, Viscountess of Rochford. Mary was thrilled to be the mistress of the lush manor. It was such a marked contrast to her former station as servant in Hatfield House. George and Mary spent many happy hours roaming the grounds of their new home and exploring its many wonders.

One day not long after her marriage, Mary noticed a nagging thought in the back of her mind that wouldn't go away no matter how hard she tried to replace it with other thoughts. By the end of the day, she knew that she wouldn't be able to ignore it any longer. The following morning she gathered the prettiest flowers she could find, journeyed to Hatfield House, and presented them to Anne.

"Why, thank you, Mary." Anne seemed surprised but delighted.

"I never expressed my regrets over your unfortunate miscarriage," Mary said.

"Your kindness is much appreciated," Anne told her.

"Anne told me what you did today," George said to Mary when she saw him later that afternoon. "I just want to let you know how much I appreciate your kindness toward my sister."

"The child she lost would have been my niece or nephew, and also my half sibling," Mary replied. "I considered it only appropriate that I express my sorrow at its loss."

George came to her and embraced her. "I do love you so," he whispered. That she had put 'niece or nephew' before 'half sibling' hadn't been lost to him.

Several weeks later, George returned home after a day in the field to find Mary with a deeply troubled expression on her face.

"What troubles you, my love?" His voice was soft with concern as his fingers softly stroked her cheek.

"I had a visit from Eustace Chapuys today." George could tell by the tone of her voice that the visit hadn't gone well at all.

"It is rumored that unless I relent and sign the oath, my father may have me arrested for treason and sent to the Tower."

"No!" George whispered, shocked.

"Eustace has advised me to sign the oath for the sake of expediency. He said that I can always recant later." George looked at his wife's brow furrowed with concern and felt sad for her. "What do you think, George?"

"You know that you have my full support in whatever decision you make," George said, after giving the matter some thought. "However, if you _do _end up in the Tower, I shall miss you sorely." The corners of his mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile but didn't dare.

"You're right, George." Mary sighed reluctantly. "Although I am much grieved at the thought of hurting my dear mother's memory so."

"Nothing on earth would break your mother's heart as much as the thought of your being thrown into the Tower," George said gently.

"I suppose you're right," Mary sighed.

* * *

><p>Mary felt so nervous as she waited to be admitted to her father's chambers. She hadn't seen him in such a long time, and she wondered how much he had changed since the last time she had seen him.<p>

Finally she was admitted to the King's chambers, where she found her father looking very happy and much the same as he had always looked to her.

"Your Majesty." Mary curtsied.

"Father," Henry corrected, kissing her cheek.

They passed several minutes in pleasant conversation, and Henry handed Mary a small package. Mary looked at it and gasped in shock.

Mary and George were silent as they returned to their temporary bedchambers inside the Palace. Once they were alone, Mary showed George what her father had given her, and he gave a low whistle.

"That's a lot of money," he said quietly. Mary didn't reply. He saw that there were tears in her eyes and took her face into his hands, gently wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

Mary curled up into a tight ball on the bed. George sat beside her for a long time, rubbing her back. At last he tenderly kissed her cheek and got into bed beside her.


	8. Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder

Mary awoke and for one confused moment thought that she was at Beaulieu Palace. Then she looked around, and memories of what had transpired the previous night came rushing back to her. She glanced at George asleep on the bed beside her and, deciding to let him continue resting, arose as quietly as possible.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Startled, Mary turned back to the bed to see George grinning saucily at her.

She giggled. "I thought you were asleep." She walked back to the bed, where she felt his arms encircle her. "Do you want..."

She could say no more as his mouth covered hers, his tongue darting between her lips. _I guess that answers that question, _she thought to herself. As her arms tightened around his neck, she lay back on the bed and felt his weight settle over hers, his hands caressing her body and lighting a fire within her.

She reached down between them and touched his rock hard member, gently guiding it toward her opening. He entered her, and they began to move together. A few moments later, George cried out, Mary clinging tightly to him and moaning herself.

George placed a trail of tender kisses along her hairline. "There now, feel better?" he asked softly.

"Oh God, yes," she whispered, closing her eyes. George moved as if to get up. "No, stay," she told him. She dozed lightly in his arms for awhile.

Much later in the morning, they began the journey back to Beaulieu Palace.

* * *

><p>The weeks flowed easily into months as Mary and George fell into a comfortable routine of their own. Days were spent taking walks around the grounds, riding horseback, or going on picnics or jaunts through the woods or over the countryside. Some days George had work to do in his study or in the fields, and Mary would spend the day reading or doing needlework or playing the virginals or lute. Occasionally George had to go away to court for a few days or a week or two at a time. Mary knew that there were many desirable women at court who would be more than happy to bed her husband. She tried to put the thought out of her mind, but it refused to go away.<p>

On the first night of George's first overnight absence, Mary wasn't able to go to sleep. She was so accustomed to George's arms being around her that she felt empty without them. The second night was a little bit better, but she was still troubled by restlessness and strange dreams. Patiently she counted down the days until his return, and when she finally saw him approaching from the distance, her joy knew no bounds. He climbed down from his horse, and she rushed into his arms.

"Did you miss me?" he laughed.

That night, as Mary lay cuddled in his arms, George noticed that her face bore a troubled look.

"What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" he asked.

"I was just thinking about all those women at court..."

"What women at court?"

"Surely you know to whom I refer. The women who offer companionship to lonely men."

"But I had nothing to do with them, Mary." He chuckled softly. "Were you worried?"

She bit her bottom lip and nodded.

"Why, you have no reason to be. Would it be fair for me to accept the pleasures of the women at court while you sleep alone every night?"

A sob caught in Mary's throat. "You truly do love me then, George!" Tears came to her eyes.

He laughed. "Of course I do! How could you ever doubt it?"


	9. Baby Hunger

"Is everything all right, sweetheart? You look a bit sad," George said to Mary one evening.

"I'm just a bit disappointed, is all. My monthly courses started today."

"Oh, sweetie." George reached to embrace her. "Don't feel discouraged. It doesn't always happen right away, you know."

"I know." Mary sighed. "I just get impatient sometimes, I guess."

George laughed softly and swatted her behind.

Mary was a tad worried when her courses returned yet again the following month. She didn't mention it to George because she didn't want him to be worried too.

The next month her courses didn't come when she expected them, but as she had been late before, she didn't let herself get her hopes up. When she began to experience other symptoms, she told the midwife, who examined her.

"Yes, I'd say you're about a month along," the midwife told her with a smile. Mary's heart felt as light as a feather for the rest of the morning. She couldn't wait to tell George.

As soon as George saw her face, he could tell that she was terribly happy about something. He suspected that he knew what it was but decided to wait and let her tell him.

"Guess what!" Mary cried excitedly, throwing herself into her husband's arms and showering his face with kisses. He laughed merrily at her enthusiasm.

"I'm with child!" she told him.

George laughed with pure happiness. "When are you due?" he asked her.

"Late summer, the midwife thinks."

A couple of weeks later George had news of his own. "Our child will have a cousin the same age, as Anne just found out that she's with child again as well."

Mary frowned darkly. George touched her cheek gently. "Please try to be happy for her," he said softly. "She's very concerned that she may miscarry again. I'm sure she'd appreciate a visit from you."

_Just because I'm her sister-in-law now doesn't mean that I have to be her friend as well, _Mary thought, but she didn't say anything.

Several days later Mary received a surprise visit from Anne and Elizabeth. Mary swallowed hard and tried her best to be cordial, for George's sake.

"What a lovely surprise! How are you faring?"

"Quite well, thank you." Anne's smile looked a bit forced.

"Elizabeth's so cute, and she's growing so fast!"

"Thank you. Yes, she is." Anne's smile looked a bit more genuine this time. "George told me the good news. I think it's simply wonderful that you and I will have children the same age. They'll be great playmates."

"Yes, they shall," Mary agreed, a bit awkwardly.

"You put her up to it, didn't you!" Mary said to George that evening.

"I simply thought that now that you have some common ground, perhaps you two might relate to one another better than before," George said mildly. Mary looked at his face and felt ashamed.

"I'm sorry, George," she murmured.

"It's all right," George said, sounding a bit sad. "I understand, I suppose."

The day that Mary felt the baby move for the first time was one of the happiest of her life. She took George's hand and laid it on her stomach. He smiled wistfully but didn't say anything.

"What's wrong?" Mary asked, puzzled by his reaction.

"Today is Emily's first birthday," George said quietly.

"Oh." Mary felt extremely awkward and couldn't think of a thing to say. A moment later, she felt George's arms around her and returned his embrace.

"Thanks. I needed that," George told her.

One day in early May George came home looking severely perturbed. "It's Anne," he told Mary. "She started having cramps and bleeding. I think she may be about to miscarry again. I only came by to tell you what was happening. I'm leaving right away to return to her."

"I'm going with you," Mary said.

"No, no, sweetheart. You mustn't let yourself get overly excited. It's too great of a risk." He rested his hand lightly on her swollen belly. "I'll return just as soon as possible with news."

Mary spent a restless night hoping that George would have a safe journey. When he finally returned the following morning, the despondent look on his face told her that things hadn't gone well at all.

George dismounted and embraced his wife. "Anne has lost the King's son." His voice was weary and laden with grief.

"I'm so sorry." Mary didn't know what else to say."

"Our father is angry at her. He asked her what she had done to kill the baby."

"Oh, no!" Mary gasped, shocked.

George nodded miserably.

"And what did my father say?" Mary asked.

"He said that now he knows he'll never have a son with my sister," George told her. Only a year ago, Mary would have felt fiercely glad. Now all she felt was guilty and miserable.


	10. Outcome

"What's going to happen now?" Mary asked.

"I don't know," George said helplessly. "Rumor has it that your father has his eye on a lady in waiting named Jane Seymour, and that he and Thomas Cromwell are planning to start an investigation and possibly bring charges of adultery against my sister. Oh, why am I telling you this? In your condition, you don't need to be made upset."

"Yet I need to know what's going on," Mary countered. "If she is to be charged with adultery, there has to be one or more accomplices to be charged alongside her."

"Names have been mentioned," George said quietly.

"Anyone I know?" Mary pressed.

"Ah...no," George said quickly. A bit _too _quickly. "They're only rumors, Mary. The King himself has so far said nothing at all about them. Most likely, there's nothing to them and they shall quickly be forgotten."

A horrible thought came to Mary just then, one so horrible that it made her gasp. _But surely he wouldn't..._Yet Mary realized that this was her _father _who was being discussed, and she knew that he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Nothing at all.

After passing a restless night filled with nightmares, Mary knew what she must do. She set off for Whitehall Palace first thing the next morning.

"Mary! What a lovely surprise!" Henry greeted her, eying her swollen belly.

"It's good to see you again, Father," Mary replied, dropping a curtsey. "I came to tell you how deeply sorry I am for your recent loss."

"Yes," Henry said bitterly. "She lost our boy. My son. Yet what else could I have expected from that witch, that whore? I can't believe that I allowed her to bewitch me as she did."

"I've heard there are rumors," Mary continued. "The Queen may be arrested and charged with adultery, so they say. Others may be charged with her as accomplices."

"It's true that she has indeed broken her marriage vows, on numerous occasions and with numerous different men," Henry growled.

"I have also come, Father, to beg you not to implicate my husband in any charges you may bring against her," Mary implored, placing her hand on her abdomen for emphasis. "I tell you, despite whatever rumors you may hear, George is innocent. I know that for a fact."

"Have you been with him twenty-four hours a day for the last six months?" Henry countered.

"Well, no, but I can tell you that I know my husband well enough to know that he would never commit such an unnatural and perverted act. Please, Father, you don't want your grandchild to have to grow up without a father, do you?"

A look of uncertainty passed over Henry's face. "I will deal with the Queen as I see fit," he said brusquely. "I wish to hear no more on this matter from you."

"Yes, Your Majes-... Father."

"So tell me, how is my grandson's development coming along so far?"

"The midwife says that everything is fine, Father."

They made small talk for a few more minutes, and then Mary returned home, feeling that she had accomplished little.

Several days later, George told Mary that the King had declared his marriage to Anne to be null and void and had made plans to marry Jane Seymour. Anne was to be sent to a convent.

"And what shall become of Elizabeth?" asked Mary.

"She shall be raised by my sister Mary and her family in the country."

"I'm so relieved that there was never an investigation into the adultery charges," Mary said. "You'll never know how worried I was about that."

"You went to talk to him, didn't you?" George's voice held a slight note of gentle surprise, and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.

Mary nodded. "Can't you see that I _had _to? I couldn't be at peace until I knew that I had done everything I could."

George came to her and held her close. "Thank you," he murmured into her hair.

* * *

><p>At the convent, Anne felt that her life was over. All her dreams of remaining the Queen of England, of some day being the mother of a future King of England, were shattered. To have fallen so swiftly and so deeply was almost more than she could bear.<p>

She was totally unprepared for the visitor she received one day.

"Lady Anne," he greeted her, his light brown hair falling gently over his forehead, his brown eyes sparkling underneath it, a gentle smile upon his lips.

"Thomas Wyatt! What on earth are you doing here?"

"I came to deliver a message." Suddenly he was right beside her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"What do you want, Thomas?"

"Don't you know?"

She moved away angrily. "I shall _not _be the mistress of another married man!"

"I lost my dear Elizabeth to the sweating sickness, Anne."

"I'm so sorry." For just a moment she felt guilty for having reacted as she had.

"Thank you." Thomas swiftly disappeared, and shortly afterwards Anne discovered that he had slipped a piece of paper into her pocket. She opened it and found that it was a poem telling of his desire for her. Feeling indignant at his boldness, she immediately stalked after him.

She found him leaning against a tree, one foot on the ground, the other on the tree's trunk.

"Mistress Boleyn," he said.

"I came to give back your poem," she told him.

"You can't give back a poem," he said. "Or a thought...or a kiss." He moved toward her, and she took a hesitant step back.

"I must go back," she said, a bit uncertainly.

"Stay awhile." His voice was gentle, persuasive, as he held to her. He leaned in to kiss her, and this time she didn't resist, not even when she felt his hands untying the back of her dress so that it fell away from her. The poem fell unnoticed to the ground.


	11. Miracle

Mary's pregnancy continued to progress normally. One day in late August she was strolling in the garden when she felt a strange pain across her abdomen and felt a sudden gush of water down her legs.

"The baby's coming!" she shouted, running back toward Beaulieu Palace. She sent the servants to fetch George, who was working in the field, and the midwife. Then she went to her bedroom and lay down.

The midwife arrived soon and examined Mary. "Everything seems normal so far," she said. "You should give birth within a few hours."

At first the contractions didn't come very close together, so Mary had time to rest in between them. Later they became stronger and seemed to fall into a regular pattern.

As the contractions began to get even stronger and closer together, Mary had to use all her concentration to focus on dealing with the pain. Often she cried out and grasped the sheets tightly. At last the midwife examined her and told her that it was time to push the baby out.

Mary gave a mighty push, and nothing seemed to happen. With the next contraction she pushed again, as hard as she could. Still nothing.

Mary pushed and pushed until she was utterly exhausted. The midwife examined her again.

"Keep pushing, honey. You're doing just fine." Mary pushed again and this time she felt something slide down.

"The head is crowning!" the midwife exclaimed. Mary felt very excited. Soon her father would hopefully have a grandson, and George a son. Perhaps her father would finally love her wholeheartedly if she could at least give him a grandson, since he had no son.

"Give me one more big push," the midwife encouraged her. Mary pushed with all her might and felt a tremendous release from below. A moment of silence was followed by the lusty wail of a newborn.

"You have a beautiful, healthy baby girl!" the midwife exclaimed joyfully.

Mary felt an instant rush of love for her new daughter the second she saw her for the first time. but at the same time a nagging fear haunted her. Her father had ultimately rejected her for being a girl. Would George likewise reject his own daughter as well?

As she held her, Mary looked down into her daughter's tiny face and felt that it would be impossible for anyone not to love her. Never before had she seen anything so delicate, so fragile, so perfect. Mary felt profoundly grateful to God, and to George as well, for the miracle of her baby.

"She's beautiful." Startled, Mary looked up into George's face and saw that he was beaming. He saw the expression on her face and was instantly concerned.

"Is something the matter, love?"

"Oh, George!" Mary suddenly felt as if she were about to cry.

"Mary!" Instantly George's arms were around her and he was holding her.

"Is it all right, George?" Mary's voice sounded very small.

"Is _what _all right?"

"You know...that she's a girl."

"Why, of course it's all right!" George laughed. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"My father cast my mother and myself aside because I was a girl instead of a boy."

"Oh, Mary, I love you so much! Even if we never do have a son, I would never cast you aside. Not for _anything."_

"Truly, George?"

"I give you my solemn word." He looked fondly at his new daughter. "What shall we call you, little one?"

"I'd like to name her Katherine, for my mother, if that's all right with you," Mary said, a bit hesitantly.

"That's fine," George said.

"Thank you."

"Why, it's no problem at all!" George gave her a giant hug, and she relaxed into his embrace.

* * *

><p>Thomas placed one hand over Anne's exposed left breast, and she felt the nipple harden at his touch.<p>

"Someone will see us," she murmured.

"Who's here to see?" he whispered into her ear, continuing to massage her breast. Suddenly she stepped away from him.

"I can't," she said.

"Why not?" He looked crestfallen.

"I gave myself to a man before marriage once, and look at what happened!"

Thomas sighed deeply. "As you wish," he said bleakly.


	12. Finding Love Again

Mary enjoyed caring for her new daughter, and the baby's birth did much toward healing the ache that had been in her heart since the loss of her mother. She found that caring for the baby proved to be such an all-absorbing task that between that and her prayer life, little time was left for grieving over the past.

Nursing was awkward and painful at first, but over time mother and daughter adjusted and it became a very pleasurable experience for them both.

One evening Mary looked up from nursing the baby to see George grinning at her from the doorway of the nursery. She smiled back, and he walked over to her, kissed her cheek, and stroked the baby's soft hair.

"You know, I sometimes simply can't believe how lucky I am," he said softly.

"I feel just the same way," Mary told him. "You, me, and Katherine are a family now, just like my mother, my father, and myself once were." She had to swallow a lump in her throat.

"That's true," George said. "And this time it shan't be taken away from you," he vowed.

"I'm so happy," Mary sighed.

"I only wish..." George's voice trailed off, and Mary saw a look of longing in his eyes.

"What?"

"That Emily were here with us as well." George sighed deeply. "Looking at Katherine, I can't help but wonder what she was like at this age."

Mary said nothing. For her it was painful to be reminded that George had been with another woman before her. She reminded herself that at least George hadn't taken any mistresses during her pregnancy, as her father would have done, but it still hurt to know that George had another child.

* * *

><p>"Are you truly happy living here?" Thomas Wyatt asked Anne.<p>

"Well, no," Anne admitted. "I miss Elizabeth dreadfully, and I also miss the thrill of life at court. Yet here, I feel safe. Safe from Henry's tantrums, his rages, the malicious gossip mongers at court."

"Come away with me," Thomas gently urged her. "Let me shower you with the affection you deserve. Marry me. I love you, Anne."

"Thomas..." Anne back away hesitantly. She had been a Queen, the most powerful and important woman in England. Would she, could she be happy with a simple poet? Thomas was sweet, kind, gentle, and very attentive. Worshipful, almost. Markedly different from the volatile, mercurial Henry.

"Please, Anne." Thomas looked at her with pleading, hopeful eyes. "I promise, I'll do everything I can to make you happy."

"Very well, then," Anne said with a smile.

She and Thomas were wed in a small chapel near the monastery. Some of Thomas' family members were there, and Anne met Thomas' two small children, Thomas and Anne.

"Are you my new mama?" little Anne asked her father's new wife.

"Indeed I am," Anne told her, lifting the little girl into her lap and embracing her tightly.

The new family all went for a boat ride on the Thames together. That night Thomas and Anne tucked the children into bed, and Thomas took Anne's hand and led her to their own bedroom.

"You can't imagine how long I've waited for this moment," Thomas murmured as he began to kiss Anne passionately. Anne relaxed into his embrace and soon began to feel pleasantly drowsy.

As Thomas removed Anne's clothing and began to place soft kisses on every inch of her skin, Anne felt herself catch fire inside. It had been so long...Henry hadn't touched her after the last miscarriage.

By the time Thomas had kissed his way down Anne's body and began to use his tongue to gently tease the sensitive skin between her legs, Anne was moaning with desire. What Thomas was doing felt so delicious that she begged him not to stop. As she felt herself begin to go over the edge, Thomas changed position and entered her. For Anne, making love to her new husband was the most incredible thing she had ever experienced, for more pleasurable than any encounter with Henry had ever been.


	13. Jane's Ordeal

"Are you happy, darling?" Thomas Wyatt gently stroked his new wife's hair as he awaited her response.

"Mostly," Anne replied.

Thomas frowned. "What troubles you, my love?"

"It's just that I miss my Elizabeth so very much. I know that she's safe and happy with my sister Mary, but I wish that she lived with us instead."

"Why don't we pay them a visit?" Thomas suggested.

"What a lovely surprise!" Mary exclaimed when she came out to greet her sister and brother-in-law.

"This is my husband, Thomas Wyatt, and his children, Thomas and Anne," Anne said by way of introduction.

"It's lovely to meet you all," Mary said. "This is my husband William and my children Katherine, Henry, and Anne."

"I simply can't believe how much you've grown!" Anne said to Elizabeth, who was, of course, overjoyed to see her mother again.

"I want to live with you and Papa again, Mama," said Elizabeth.

"Your papa and I don't live together anymore," Anne explained. "But I would be very happy for you to come live with me and Thomas and little Thomas and little Anne."

"What about my cousins?" asked Elizabeth.

"They have to live with their own mama and papa," Anne told her. "But we can come back and visit any time you want."

Elizabeth looked at little Thomas and little Anne. "Are they my new brother and sister?" she asked.

"Indeed they are." The older Thomas smiled at her.

"I never had a brother before." Elizabeth stared at little Thomas with round eyes.

"Well, you do now," Anne said with a smile.

"And we can come back and visit Aunt Mary and Uncle William and Katherine and Henry and the other Anne?"

"Anytime you want, sweetheart," her new stepfather assured her.

Elizabeth quickly adjusted to living with her new family. Although she missed her father, she formed close relationships with her stepfather and his children. Anne felt that her happiness was complete at last.

* * *

><p>Mary found that she got along very well with her new stepmother, Jane Seymour. As it turned out, Jane was almost as devoted to the true faith as Mary herself was, and the two women spent many happy hours together discussing religion and other matters.<p>

By February of 1537, Jane was with child. She and Henry were thrilled, of course.

"Well, I suppose my father will finally get the son he's been wanting so badly for so long," Mary said to George.

"How do you feel about that?" George asked.

"Well, I suppose it would have been nice to be Queen someday," Mary admitted. "However, if that isn't God's will, then so be it."

Mary was visiting her father and Jane when the Queen went into labor that October. At first everything seemed fine, but as Jane's labor continued for an entire day with no noticeable progress, Mary knew that something must be wrong. She could tell that her stepmother was getting weaker and weaker and was concerned that Jane was going to run out of strength long before the baby was actually born.

Halfway through the second day of labor, a physician was summoned. He examined Jane, frowned darkly, and shook his head. Then he went to speak to the King, who was in the chapel praying.

The physician returned, and Mary's eyes grew wide with fear as he opened his satchel to reveal several sharp scalpels. Mary looked at Jane lying exhausted and in agony and knew that if the physician cut her and took the baby through her abdomen that she would die. The physician seemed to contemplate just that, then examined Jane again and closed the satchel, to Mary's tremendous relief.

Finally, after more than two complete days of labor, Jane had advanced to the point where she was ready to give birth. The midwife propped her up with pillows and prepared to catch the baby. After a couple of hours of pushing, the baby finally slid out of its mother's body and into the midwife's waiting hands. The midwife deftly cut the umbilical cord, and the newborn began to wail lustily. The midwife turned to Jane, who by now was barely conscious.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty," she said. "You have a healthy new daughter."


	14. Henry's Fury

"My...daughter..." Jane gasped. Mary sat beside her stepmother's bed, pressing a cool wet cloth to the exhausted woman's forehead. "Let me see her..."

The baby was cleaned, wrapped in a blanket, and placed beside her mother's head.

"She's beautiful, Jane," Mary said. Inside she dreaded her father's reaction. She knew that Henry would be furious about the baby's gender and hoped that he wouldn't take his anger out on her gentle, unassuming stepmother.

"The King must be told," someone finally said. Mary saw that Jane's eyes had rolled up into her forehead.

Henry appeared shortly afterwards, his face a mask of rage.

"So, you have failed me," he said to Jane, who couldn't respond. Henry seemed to barely notice his wife's condition as he glanced disdainfully at his newborn daughter and then stalked away.

Mary looked at Jane's pallid face and wondered whether it might not be more merciful for the woman to die rather than to live and have to deal with Henry's reaction to the birth of his new daughter.

* * *

><p>Jane slipped into a coma and lingered for several more days. She never regained consciousness, and Henry never returned to her chambers.<p>

Mary was distraught when Jane finally passed away. Jane's funeral was a very quiet, small affair, and Henry did not attend it.

The newborn was named Jane for her recently deceased mother and was taken in by her uncle, Edward Seymour, and his wife, to be raised alongside their own children.

Mary went to say good-bye to her father before returning to George at Beaulieu Palace. She found him in seclusion with his fool, Will Somers.

"All is lost," Henry wailed to his oldest daughter. "The Queen failed to keep her promise, and now she never can, as she has left me."

"Your new daughter is a beautiful baby," Mary told him. "Have you seen her?"

"Of what use is another daughter to me?" Henry exploded, so furiously that Mary took several steps back.

"She's of your blood just as I am, and shall be raised in the true faith, as I was." Mary's voice was tremulous.

"Out! Leave me alone to my grief and despair!" Henry shouted.

* * *

><p>Katherine, just over a year old, clapped her hands with joy as she watched her mother's carriage arrive. George took one look at Mary's tired, worn face and knew that the news she brought wasn't good.<p>

"Katherine, my heart!" Mary cried with joy as she reached for the child. She showered her daughter with kisses until Katherine squirmed impatiently to be put down.

"The Queen did not survive the birth," Mary told George.

"I am very sorry." George attempted to feign grief, although he couldn't help but feel as if his sister's supplantation as Queen had been avenged by Jane's death.

"So, have we a new prince or a new princess?" he asked.

"A new princess," Mary told him. "She has been named for her mother and is to be raised by her Uncle Edward and his wife. My father refuses to have anything to do with her."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me at all," George said. "How long has it been since he visited Elizabeth?"

"Longer than I can remember," Mary said. "She's fortunate that Thomas loves her so, and treats her as his own daughter."

"Indeed she is," George replied. Mary still held Katherine. George put his arm around her, and they walked back to the palace together.


	15. New Developments

Life continued peacefully and happily for George and Mary at Beaulieu Palace, and in the spring of 1538, they welcomed a second daughter, Julia. Once again Mary was concerned that George would be disappointed about the baby's gender, but if he was at all, he hid it well, as he seemed just as delighted over the birth of Julia as he had over that of Katherine.

Mary was so hurt by her father's reaction to the birth of his third daughter and the death of Jane that she refused to visit the King for a long time, and he never sent for her. George was, of course, still in close touch with Anne, and the relationship between Mary and her sister-in-law had warmed to the point that Mary went with her husband frequently to visit as well. Elizabeth had grown to be a bright and inquisitive five-year-old, and she got along very well with the two Wyatt children. Mary, who had despised her much-younger half-sister at first, grew to be genuinely fond of Elizabeth and was happy to see that she was well loved and in a stable family situation.

As for baby Jane, sources close to the Seymours reported that she was faring well under the care of her Uncle Edward and his wife. They had several children around Jane's age, and the little girl was being raised alongside them as their sister. Mary could only imagine how devastated the young girl would be when she was old enough to learn the truth, that her mother had died as a result of her birth and that her father had cast her aside because of her gender. Mary thought of the youngster often and wondered whether the Seymours would mind if she visited occasionally. She didn't ask, as she suspected that her presence in the Seymour household might serve as a painful reminder of the circumstances of Queen Jane's death.

In January of 1540, King Henry VIII married his fourth wife, Anne of Cleves. The new Queen was a Protestant, a Lutheran. Even so, Mary was curious to meet her new stepmother and so journeyed to Whitehall Palace to visit her.

Mary was pleasantly surprised to find that, despite their religious differences, she and Queen Anne quickly developed a genuine rapport. Anne's face was badly scarred by smallpox, but she had a warm and engaging personality, and greeted Mary with a smile.

"I am so very pleased to meet you!" she said in her thick, guttural German accent.

"Likewise," said Mary, returning the smile.

"I trust that your husband and children are well." Anne smiled knowingly at Mary's swollen belly. "And I see that you are yet again with child."

"I'm due to give birth in late spring or early summer," Mary replied. "Hopefully we will have a son this time." Mary had serious doubts that George would be as pleased at the birth of a third daughter as he had been at the first two.

"I'm sure that God will smile on you soon, as he will on me," said Anne. Mary felt a twinge of sympathy for the woman, as she could only imagine the pressure her father would soon be exerting on his new wife to produce a male heir.

* * *

><p>The following May, George and Mary's third daughter, Margery, was born. Mary thought that George's smile looked a bit strained as he came to see her after the birth.<p>

"Well, at least she's healthy. That's the important thing," he said softly. Mary thought that he sounded almost as if he were about to cry.


	16. Unfulfilled Desire

Never in a million years would she admit it to Mary, but the happy face Anne of Cleves had put on for her stepdaughter's visit had entirely been a facade. In reality, Anne was miserably aware that the King wasn't pleased with her at all. The crestfallen look that had been on his face when she had first been introduced to him had spoken volumes. Painfully aware of the smallpox scars on her face, she had feared rejection, and the confirmation of her fears had broken her heart.

The night after their wedding, the King had come to Anne's bed, felt her breasts, and explored her nether regions with his fingers.

"You are no maid," he had said harshly. Tears had come to her eyes as she had known that it would do no good to protest, although in truth she had never known a man carnally, had never even come close.

From that night on, she and Henry had slept in the same bed without physically touching one another. He kissed her every morning after they had both awakened and virtually ignored her for the rest of the day.

Sitting in her chambers, Anne's mind went back to the day when her brother had told her that she was going to marry the King of England. She had always known, of course, that she'd marry the sovereign of a foreign country some day. She'd heard of Henry Tudor, of course; knew that he'd broken with the church in Rome in order to divorce his first wife and marry the second, that after only several years of marriage he'd cast her aside for the third, that the third had died giving birth to his child, a child he had rejected because of its gender. Bad things happened to those who displeased King Henry VIII of England.

One day a pretty young blonde no older than sixteen or seventeen arrived in Anne's bedchambers. "I'm Katherine Howard, your new lady-in-waiting," she told Anne, curtsying deeply.

* * *

><p>"No, I <em>won't <em>do it! You can't make me!" Katherine Howard shouted at her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk.

"But of course you shall," Thomas Howard said coolly. "He desires you. You can see it in his eyes."

"Well, I _won't _marry him! He's old and fat and disgusting!"

"He's the King of England!" Thomas shouted at his niece. "Your cousins have done their part for the advancement of this family, and now it's your turn!"

"But Anne failed. How do you know I won't fail as well?"

"You shall _not _fail!" Thomas roared. "You shall give the King the son he so badly desires, and a Howard descendant shall sit on the throne of England someday!"

* * *

><p>When the inevitable happened and Anne of Cleves was served with divorce papers, it was with a mixture of deep sorrow and relief that she received them. Although deeply saddened by the failure of her marriage and the loss of her status as Queen, she was still immensely relieved that, unlike her predecessor Anne Boleyn, she had at least escaped arrest on trumped-up charges.<p>

Anne of Cleves was given Hever Castle as a home and a generous yearly allowance. In time, she and her former husband the King became very good friends.

Meanwhile, Katherine Howard was having a very difficult time adjusting to her new role as Queen of England. Although Henry idolized her and showered her with gifts, to her it was just a hollow existence. Every time she lay under her husband's immense weight enduring his thrusts and moans, the only way she could bear the experience was to fantasize that she was instead in the arms of someone younger, handsome, charming, virile. Little did she know how swiftly the man of her fantasies would enter her life in the form of a courtier named Thomas Culpepper.

The first time she saw Thomas, she was captivated by his brilliant blue eyes and charming smile. The way he looked at her gave her every indication that the attraction was mutual. Yet, how would she ever get together with him without the King's knowledge?

"He's very nice looking, isn't he?" Katherine's lady-in-waiting, Jane Parker, said to her one day.

"I suppose so." Katherine eyed Jane suspiciously.

"Come on, admit it. You want him," Jane continued.

Katherine shrugged. "What's the point? There's no way we could be together anyway. It's far too dangerous."

Jane's eyes narrowed in contemplation. "I might could think of a way that you two could be together."

"Could you, really?" Suddenly Katherine was giddy with excitement.

Jane smiled mysteriously. "Just leave it up to me," she said.


	17. Destined For Great Things

Katherine felt passion flow through her like a jolt of electricity at the sight of Thomas' oh-so-blue eyes and dazzling smile. She knew that they would have to be quick about it, but that knowledge only fueled the almost animal-like craving she had for her lover.

Right away Thomas' mouth was on her own, both their tongues dancing in a frenzy of emotion. As his hands moved to caress her breasts, her hands moved to massage his increasingly rigid member through his hose.

"Take me in your mouth," he whispered fiercely. She knelt before him, pulled his hose down, and took as much of him into her mouth as she could.

"Ah, yes, that's right," he purred, running his hands through her hair. He came very quickly, and Katherine swallowed every drop.

Quickly hard again, he lifted her dress, deftly moved her undergarments out of the way, and entered her. She gasped and began to move against him in abandon, thinking how very unlike the tired ritual of lying underneath the massive King as he grunted his way to ecstasy it was.

* * *

><p>The trysts between Katherine and Thomas continued for several months without Henry suspecting a thing. If he wondered why she sometimes smiled to herself when she thought that no one was looking, he kept his thoughts to himself.<p>

Katherine should have known that it would eventually come to an end, and when it finally did, the repercussions were brutal. Katherine, Thomas, and Jane were all imprisoned in the Tower and sentenced to death. Yet Katherine had a secret, one that she hoped would save her from the block.

Several times she begged for an audience with the King, but he refused to listen to her. Finally, on the morning she was taken from her cell and led to the scaffold, she looked Henry directly in the eye and bravely stated her case.

"Your Majesty, if you have my head removed today, you will end not one life but two, as I am with child."

A court physician was summoned and quickly confirmed Katherine's words. Her execution was cancelled, her marriage to Henry was declared null and void, and she was sent to a convent. As there was no way to know whether the child she carried was that of the King or that of Thomas Culpepper, it would have no claim to the throne.

After learning of Katherine's betrayal, Henry sank into a deep depression. He had been so sure that he had at last found happiness with the young, beautiful, healthy woman who would give him the son he had desired so badly for so long. To discover that she had been unfaithful to him brought a pain so exquisite that it was impossible to describe.

As time went on, Henry found his thoughts drifting more and more toward Anne of Cleves, the bride he had cast aside because he had deemed her unattractive.

Following the annulment of their marriage, they had become increasingly better friends, and as he had gotten to know her better, he had come to appreciate her generous spirit, her kind heart, her intelligence, and her sincerity. He knew that Anne would never have treated him as Katherine had. As he thought about it more and more, he began to seriously wonder whether he had in fact been too hasty in casting her aside.

* * *

><p>George waited outside his wife's bedchambers with a combination of dread and anticipation. Mary had been in labor for hours now. Surely his longed-for son would be born soon. Katherine, Julia, and Margery were beautiful little girls, and he loved them dearly, but he longed for them to have a baby brother.<p>

Perhaps the time had come at last. Perhaps today would be the day his dreams would come true.

As the curtains finally parted, revealing the smiling midwife, George took a sharp intake of breath, feeling his stomach muscles clinch.

"Is Mary all right?" he asked.

"Lady Rochford is fine," the midwife told him. "You have a beautiful new daughter."

Another daughter. He struggled to compose himself as unbidden tears came to his eyes.

"You may go in and see them any time you want," the midwife told him. He barely heard her words as he turned and strode out of the palace and into the garden. As he strolled along he felt the tears fall from his eyes and roll down his face. He couldn't face Mary like this. Surely she was just as disappointed as he was. He had to be strong for her sake.

After about thirty minutes of aimlessly strolling the garden, George finally felt that his emotions were sufficiently under control that he could visit his wife and daughter. He returned to the palace and entered Mary's bedchambers. She was sitting up in bed, holding the tiny bundle and looking at George with pleading eyes.

"She's beautiful." George smiled.

"I...I thought that perhaps we could call her Cecily," Mary suggested timidly.

"Cecily." George gathered the bundle into his arms and looked into the tiny face. "You're destined for great things, little one. I just know that you are."

* * *

><p>Henry's second marriage to Anne of Cleves took place on July 12, 1543. Anne's heart was filled with happiness as she saw the adoration in Henry's eyes. She knew that this time, it would be different. This time he was marrying her for real.<p>

That night she waited with eager anticipation for him in her bedchambers. After all this time, the joy of knowing what it was like to truly be a bride was finally to be hers.

Henry came to her and began to kiss her, and she responded with warmth and passion. She felt the unfamiliar sensation of Henry's arousal against her skin and knew that the moment was at hand. She felt a sharp pain as he entered her, then several thrusts. Then Henry made an odd gurgling sound and went completely limp and still.

"Henry?"

There was no response.

"Henry! Are you all right? What happened?"

Anne began to panic as she realized that she was helplessly pinned beneath her new husband's massive girth. As breathing became more difficult, she became frantic.

"Help me! Somebody, please help me!"


	18. Coronation

"I'm so very sorry," the physician told Anne of Cleves as he emerged from behind the curtain shaking his head. "You may at least take comfort in the knowledge that it happened instantaneously. He never even knew what happened."

"But what shall I do?" Anne had never felt more helpless before in her life.

"As Dowager Queen you will be well provided for, of course. You will be allowed to keep all your property and holdings in addition to whatever the King may have left you in his will."

"But all of that aside, what shall I do without him?"

The physician shook his head sadly and patted her on the shoulder.

* * *

><p>As Mary looked at the enormous casket that held her father's body, she found it very difficult to believe that he was truly gone. Although he hadn't been the perfect father, indeed far from it, she had never stopped loving him, and it hurt deeply to know that she would never see him again.<p>

George saw his wife's pain, and his heart ached for her. Although he still felt very hurt over the way Henry had cast his sister Anne and his niece Elizabeth aside, he knew that Mary had loved her father and was taking his death hard. Having never lost a parent himself, he could only imagine how she must feel.

Caring for baby Cecily and her three older sisters gave Mary a great deal of comfort as well as distraction for the rest of that day, but that night in her bedchambers, the realization of her overwhelming loss suddenly hit her full force, and she burst into tears. Instantly George was right there, holding her, caressing her, comforting her.

"Please love me tonight, George," she begged. "Tonight I need to feel you inside me more than ever before."

He did, very tenderly, taking special care to touch her in all the ways that he knew most pleased her, and she responded even more passionately than usual.

"I love you so much I can hardly bear it sometimes," he whispered to her afterwards.

"I can't imagine what I would ever do without you," she whispered back.

"A good deal better than I'd do without you, I'm sure," he replied with a smile.

* * *

><p>As Mary's legitimacy was still in question, a vote of Parliament was necessary to establish her as the true heir to the throne. To her immense relief, the matter was settled quickly and smoothly.<p>

George planned an elaborate banquet for his wife's coronation, to be followed by a ball. Remembering Mary's ordeal at the time her mother had been cast aside and she herself bastardized, he was determined to make it up to her as much as he could.

The four young princesses were, of course, dressed in their very finest. Katherine was seven now, Julia five, Margery three, and Cecily barely over a year. The four of them quickly captured the hearts of the guests at the huge banquet, very nearly stealing the show from their mother, but Mary didn't mind at all. She loved her daughters dearly and was very proud of them.

"In my wildest dreams I never imagined that I could be this happy, and I owe it all to you, George," she sighed contentedly, leaning on her husband's shoulder.

"You deserve every bit of it, and more," George replied as he kissed her cheek.

"Are we going to live at Whitehall Palace now instead of Beaulieu, Mama?" asked Katherine.

"Yes," Mary told her.

"Hurray!" Katherine cried, but Julia frowned. "I love Beaulieu. It's my home, and I can't imagine ever living anywhere else."

"But Whitehall Palace is bigger, and ever so much grander," Katherine told her. "Besides, we have to live there now because Mama's Queen. We can still go back to visit Beaulieu sometimes on vacation," she added when she saw how crestfallen her sister looked.

"But it still won't be the same," Julia pouted. "If Mama's Queen, does that mean that Papa's King now too?"

"No, Papa is Prince Consort," Katherine explained. Julia frowned, confused.

"You know that King Henry the VIII was our Grandpa," Katherine continued. "He was our Mama's Papa when she was a little girl, so that's why she gets to be Queen now."

"Oh, all right," said Julia. She still didn't really understand, but she knew that something of major significance was taking place and that from now on her life would never be quite the same.

* * *

><p>"There was a riot," the messenger told George and Mary. "A rumor started amongst the guests that there wouldn't be enough food for all of them. Panic ensued, and in the following stampede, many were killed."<p>

"That's terrible!" Mary gasped, heartsick that the celebration of her coronation had been marred by such bloodshed. "We must cancel the ball, then. No question about it."

"I suppose you're right," George said with a heavy sigh. "Although I did so look forward to dancing with you."

Mary thought about all the effort George had put into planning the special night for her and felt guilty. "Perhaps we could still go ahead with the ball and just make it a quieter and simpler affair," she suggested.

"That sounds perfect to me," said George, looking very relieved.

That night he wore a smile as he led his wife out onto the dance floor, and her face glowed as well. Although saddened by the recent loss of life, they both welcomed the chance to celebrate their own good fortune. With a happy marriage, four beautiful daughters, and now the Kingdom as well, their lives seemed complete.

Neither of them heard the murmurings amongst a few of the guests, those who said that Mary was heartless for permitting the ball to proceed in spite of the tragedy, those who even went so far as to call her 'Bloody Mary.'


	19. Brother Christopher

One of Mary's first acts as Queen was to restore the Stafford, Wyatt, and Seymour families to favor. At ten, Elizabeth Tudor was slender, with long, reddish-blond hair and big brown eyes like her mother's.

"Your Majesty," she said, curtsying deeply before her half-sister.

"Does your stepfather treat you well?" asked Mary.

"Oh, yes, Your Majesty. He treats me the same as he treats his own children, and allows me to call him 'Father' since he's the only father I've ever known. I love him as if he truly were my father."

"Did you not, then, feel sadness upon the death of our father the King?"

"Only to the extent that any loyal subject would, as I was still too young to remember when he cast my mother and myself aside."

"What of your stepbrother and stepsister? Are they kind to you?"

"They are, Your Majesty. They treat me as if I were truly their sister by blood."

Satisfied that Elizabeth was happy and was being properly cared for, Mary asked to see her other half-sister, Jane.

The six-year-old girl bore a striking resemblance to her late mother, so much so that it pierced Mary's heart to look into her face.

"Your Majesty." The child performed a perfect curtsy, then stared at Mary with big, round eyes.

"Do you know who I am, Jane?" Mary asked gently.

"Yes, Your Majesty. You're the Queen over all of England."

"And do you know what else I am?"

"No, Your Majesty." Jane looked puzzled.

"How many brothers and sisters do you have?"

Jane counted on her fingers. "Two brothers and three sisters, Your Majesty."

"And how old are they?"

"They are all younger than me, Your Majesty." So Edward and Anne Seymour hadn't told the little girl about her two older half-sisters, and likely had led her to believe that they were her true parents as well. As badly as Mary ached to tell Jane the truth about her parentage, she realized that the little girl was too young to understand and would probably only become confused.

"You and I have a very special relationship, Jane. When you're older, you'll understand," Mary told Jane. The little girl looked very happy.

Rumor had it that Katherine Howard had given birth to a baby girl who was the spitting image of Thomas Culpepper. Since the child's parentage could not be proven, Mary chose not to pursue the matter.

* * *

><p>"If I had but one thing more, then my happiness would be complete," Mary said to George one day as they watched their four daughters at play.<p>

"You know that even if you never give me a son, I shall love you no less," George assured her.

"Yet I know how badly you want a son, and how happy it would make you," Mary said. "As Cecily is now more than two years old and I haven't been with child since her birth, I may no longer be able to bear children."

"I'm sure that you'll conceive again some day," George said with a smile. "Just be patient and give it time."

"I shall go to St. Paul's Cathedral to pray for a son," Mary decided. "If I go there, perhaps God shall hear me and grant my request."

Mary felt very small as she entered the huge cathedral. She noticed that she was alone except for one man. He wore a dark-colored, hooded robe with a rope belt that had a wooden cross hanging from it, and he was barefooted. In the dim light of the cathedral, Mary felt certain that he wouldn't recognize her.

"Bless you, my child," the man said to Mary. "What do you seek?"

"I came to beseech the Lord for a son," Mary told him. "I have given my husband four daughters, and the youngest was born more than two years ago. I fear that my womb is now barren."

The man gently took both Mary's hands into his own, and even in the dim light, she knew that he was looking straight into her eyes. "Return to your husband and lie with him, my child. The Lord shall grant your wish."

"Who are you?" Mary asked.

"I am known as Brother Christopher," the man told her. "I am a servant of the Lord, and He has sent me to comfort and encourage you."

"Thank you very much, Brother Christopher," Mary said. "If my request is granted, I shall see to it that you are richly rewarded."

As she returned home to her family, Mary's heart was light as a feather. She knew that Brother Christopher was indeed a special messenger of God and that what he had told her was true. She couldn't explain exactly how she knew. She just did.


	20. Prophecy Fulfilled

"You look so happy, my love," George told his wife when she arrived home. "Whatever the reason for it, I am thankful. You've seemed so sad lately that I had become concerned."

"We shall have our son at last!" Mary exclaimed.

"How do you know?"

"God has granted me a sign," Mary said excitedly. "I met His servant, a man called Brother Christopher, at St. Paul's. He told me to go home and lie with you and the Lord would grant our desire."

"In that case, there's no time to waste." George's eyes twinkled as he took his wife's hand and led her to their sleeping chambers.

* * *

><p>Mary's monthly courses didn't come at the usual time the following month, but, fearing that she was getting her hopes up falsely, she said nothing to George about it. By the time she had missed her monthly courses for the second time, she was experiencing other pregnancy symptoms as well, and she began to think that perhaps there was, after all, reason to hope.<p>

She didn't have to say word to George. He guessed on his own.

"You seem rather tired of late," he commented one day. Mary just smiled mysteriously.

"You also seem unusually finicky about food," George continued. "The last time I remember you being this way was when you were carrying Cecily." Mary's smile widened.

"Are you with child again?"

Mary nodded. Laughing with joy, George leaped to his feet, embraced his wife, and began to cover her face with kisses. "God be praised!"

* * *

><p>"Why is Mama's belly so big now?" Margery asked her older sisters a few months later.<p>

"She's going to have another baby," Katherine told her. "You're too little to remember, but her belly got really big like that right before Cecily was born as well."

"We're supposed to pray for a baby brother," added Julia.

"I don't _want _a baby brother!" Katherine said crossly. "I want to be Queen like Mama some day, and if we get a brother, I never can, because he'll get to be King!"

"I want Mama and Papa to be happy, and if we get a baby brother, they'll be happy," said Margery.

"I just hope Mama's going to be all right," Julia said. "It's a bit scary to have a baby."

"Do you mean Mama might die?" Margery became very concerned.

"Of course she's not going to die," Katherine scoffed. "She had all of us just fine, didn't she?"

* * *

><p>"You're doing very well, Your Majesty! One more big push!" the midwife encouraged Mary.<p>

Mary squeezed her eyes shut and bore down with all her might. Part of her desperately wanted this to be all over with, yet another part dreaded the possible outcome and wanted time to simply stand still. What if she failed George, and England, by delivering another daughter? She remembered how badly her father had wanted a son, the extraordinary lengths he had gone to in his futile effort to reach that goal. Was her father really watching her from above? Was he, in fact, witnessing the birth of his fifth grandchild?

Mary felt a burning sensation followed by a tremendous sense of release. All was quiet for a moment, and then she heard the wail of a newborn.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty! You have a new son!" the midwife exclaimed.

Tears of joy flowed from Mary's eyes as euphoria swept over her. She had a son at last! A future King for England!

Mary watched as the baby was cleaned, examined, and finally handed to her. She held him close, marveling at his tiny but perfect features, his miniature fingers and toes.

She had considered naming him George after his father, but as soon as she saw him, she instantly knew what his name would be. It had come to her out of the blue one day, and the more she had thought about it, the more right it had seemed. Now that he had finally been born, she was sure beyond the shadow of a doubt.

"Your name is Nicholas," she whispered to her newborn son.


	21. Sad News

"You have a new son and heir," the midwife told George.

"Is Mary all right?" he asked guardedly. This was, after all, her fifth delivery.

"The Queen is fine." The midwife smiled. "You may go in and see her whenever you want."

George felt his heart soar. He finally had his longed-for son, and his love for Mary knew no bounds.

Mary was sitting up in bed smiling and holding Nicholas when George walked in. "He's perfect," she told him.

"So he is." George smiled as he gazed at the perfect features in miniature.

"I would like to call him Nicholas," Mary told her husband.

George cocked an eyebrow. "There's no one named Nicholas on either side of the family," he remarked.

"Nevertheless, I feel that it's the perfect name for him," said Mary.

"Nicholas it is, then," George said amiably.

"We must find Brother Christopher," said Mary. "I promised him a rich reward if his prophecy came true."

"He's only a simple friar," George protested. "Shouldn't God receive all the credit for the gift of our son?"

"Brother Christopher is God's servant," Mary said firmly. "He deserves our gratitude for helping to carry out God's will."

A short time later, the coarse, plainly-dressed, barefooted friar stood before the Queen. The aroma wafting off him told everyone present that he hadn't had a proper wash in some time, and crumbs of food clung to his beard.

"Brother Christopher, for the fulfillment of your promise that God would grant us a son, I hereby reward you with a prominent position at court, servants to meet your every need, and the guarantee that you will be provided for for the rest of your natural life," Mary told him.

"As a servant of the Lord, I seek no reward for carrying out his will," Brother Christopher responded. "However, if it gives Your Majesty pleasure to thus reward me, I will gratefully accept your generous offer."

"Show God's servant to his new quarters," Mary ordered one of her attendants.

"Yes, Your Majesty." The attendant bowed deeply and then led Brother Christopher away.

* * *

><p>"The site where he was formerly attached has not stopped bleeding yet." Mary worriedly examined her son's tiny umbilical scar. "If I remember correctly, it seems to me that with the girls, it had healed long before this point."<p>

"I think you worry too much," George told her. "I'm sure the rate of healing varies from one baby to another, and I daresay it may well take longer for boys to heal than girls."

A short time later, Mary noticed that her son seemed to bruise incredibly easily, much more easily than his older sisters had. Alarmed, she summoned the court physician, Dr. Booth, who listened to her concerns, examined Nicholas thoroughly, and then shook his head soberly.

"Your son is a free bleeder," he told Mary. "He must never be bled for any reason, as in his case the procedure would prove fatal. Any time his body's humors are out of balance, we must simply wait for them to be restored naturally. He must also be well protected from the bumps, scrapes, and falls that all children are prone to, as any injury will cause him to bleed much more heavily than usual."

"But what would have caused him to have been born this way?" Mary asked.

"No one knows," Dr. Booth told her. "I have seen a few cases like your son's before, and all I can tell you is that it does tend to affect brothers. That is to say, if it affects the firstborn son in a family, later born sons are likely, although not certain, to be affected as well."

"So is Nicholas fated to die at an early age, then?"

"If the precautions I mentioned are followed to the letter, there is no natural limit on his life span," said Dr. Booth. "I have known of a few cases like Nicholas' in which the affected individual lived to adulthood."

Mary wept inconsolably for the rest of that day. George stayed beside her for the entire time, trying in vain to comfort her. Although devastated himself, he tried his best to put his own grief aside for the sake of his wife.

A few weeks later, Nicholas developed a cold and, with it, sneezing followed by a severe nosebleed. Mary and George watched helplessly as the bleeding continued unchecked. Dr. Booth was summoned but was unable to slow the bleeding at all. _A priest may have to be summoned soon, _he thought, although he lacked the courage to say that in front of the Queen.

"Brother Christopher!" The idea came to Mary like a bolt out of the blue. "He's a special servant of the Lord, and if anyone can stop the bleeding, he can!"

In the darkness of his despair, George felt a faint glimmer of hope. Could Brother Christopher actually save their son? At this point he was certainly willing to try anything, anything at all...

The friar was summoned immediately. Mary and George watched as he took the infant into his arms. As he gazed intently into the baby's eyes, they gaped with disbelief as within a matter of seconds, Nicholas' nosebleed had completely stopped.

"God be praised!" Mary, the Queen of England, threw herself at the filthy friar's feet in humble gratitude.


	22. Emilie Part One

**Four Years Later**

Katherine couldn't believe her eyes. The other girl resembled her closely enough to pass for her twin sister. They both had the same dark brown hair and eyes, the same dimples. The other girl saw her at the same time, and her eyes bugged out and her mouth dropped open.

The other girl spoke first. "You're one of the royal children, aren't you?"

"I'm Princess Katherine, the Queen's oldest daughter," Katherine told her. "Who are you?"

"My name is Emilie Boisseau," the other girl said. "My father is a chevalier, and my mother was originally from England. My mother wanted me to come to the English court as a lady in waiting to the Queen because she thought I should experience life in her native country."

"How old are you?" asked Katherine.

"I just turned fifteen," Emilie told her. "How old are you?"

"Thirteen and a half," Katherine said. "I can't get over how much we resemble one another!"

"Neither can I." Emilie laughed. "My mother's always told me that I look just like my father, although I've never been able to see it."

"I _do _look just like _my _father," Katherine said. "I just thought of something! How about if we switch places and see how long it takes for people to find out?"

Emilie gasped with surprise, then giggled. "I love it! So I'll become Princess Katherine, and you'll be Emilie Boisseau, lady in waiting."

"Until we get found out, that is." Katherine winked at her, and Emilie grinned back.

Katherine went to join the other ladies in waiting, and Emilie went to join Julia, Margery, and Cecily in the royal classroom. Nicholas wasn't old enough for school yet.

Julia glanced at the girl she believed to be her older sister, then blinked and looked again. "Is everything all right, Katherine? You look...different, somehow."

"Why, I'm just the same as I've always been," said Emilie, feigning surprise at Julia's question.

"I guess it must be my imagination, then," said Julia, returning to her studies.

Emilie found it difficult to hide her feelings when she joined the royal family at meal time. She couldn't help but feel awe and wonder that she was actually eating a meal in the presence of Queen Mary of England.

"Your tutor reports that your progress in arithmetic is still satisfactory," Mary said to Emilie.

"Yes, Your Maj...Mother." Emilie couldn't believe how forgetful she'd been. Mary gave her a funny look, then said something to her in French. Realizing that the Queen was testing her, Emilie replied to her in the same tongue.

Looking pleasantly surprised, Mary asked her a long sentence containing some rather complicated words, again in French. Emilie gave her the perfect response effortlessly.

Mary looked at George in amazement. "I can't believe it!" she exclaimed. "It's absolutely amazing how much your French has improved!" she told Emilie.

"I've been practicing a whole lot." Emilie ducked her head so that no one could see that her face was burning.

"That's obvious." Mary smiled with pleasure. George stared at Emilie for a long time without saying a word.

After lunch, Emilie, Julia, Margery, Cecily, and Nicholas went out into the garden to play. Cecily and Nicholas were playing tag when Nicholas tripped and fell.

"Nicky! Are you all right?" Julia's voice was full of concern as she rushed to help her little brother up.

"I'm all right," Nicholas said bravely.

"But you're _bleeding!" _Julia exclaimed, looking with dismay at Nicholas' skinned knee.

"Call Brother Christopher!" cried Margery.

Julia studied Nicholas' wound for a few minutes. "It's only a small scrape," she said at last. "See, it's already stopped bleeding. There's no need to call for Brother Christopher _this _time."

Emilie was deeply puzzled. Why so much concern over a skinned knee? All children fell and skinned their knees from time to time. And who on earth was Brother Christopher? She longed to ask but knew that she couldn't.

Emilie and the three younger girls went to the palace stables and rode horses for awhile. Emilie had just returned her horse to its stall and was toweling and brushing it down when she heard someone approaching and, to her surprise, saw that it was the Prince Consort, George Boleyn.

"Who exactly _are _you?" he asked her.


	23. Emilie Part Two

"My name is Emilie Boisseau, and I just came to court as a lady in waiting," Emilie told the Prince Consort. "When I met Katherine, we both noticed how closely we resembled one another, so we decided to switch places and see how long it would take before anyone noticed." Emilie suddenly felt afraid. "I hope that you're not angry, Your Grace. We meant no harm but were only in fun."

"It's quite all right." George chuckled and patted Emilie's shoulder reassuringly. "So my oldest daughter is now amongst the ladies in waiting, then?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"And you're from France, I take it." George smiled.

"How did you know that?" Emilie was surprised until she remembered the conversation at lunch. "Oh, that's right. I take it Katherine's French isn't the best."

George laughed. "It's coming along. To her credit, she does try very hard."

"As it so happens, my mother was originally from England," said Emilie. "She wanted me to come to court here to experience life in her native country."

"Is that right?" To Emilie's surprise, George suddenly seemed very interested. "And what is your mother's name?"

"Her name at birth was Frances Guilford. Why do you ask?"

"And how old are you now, Emilie?"

"I just turned fifteen." Emilie was now truly puzzled.

"And when was your birthday?"

Emilie told him, and his face turned white as a sheet.

"Dear God, I don't believe it," he mumbled.

"What's wrong, Your Grace? Have I said something to upset you?" Very concerned, Emilie went to George and placed her hand on his arm.

"Oh, no, no," George quickly assured her. "What has your mother told you about your father?"

"What do you mean? My father's name is Jacques Boisseau, and he's a chevalier."

"I know that this will come as quite a shock to you, Emilie, but Jacques Boisseau isn't your true father. I am."

"But that's not possible!" Emilie turned just as pale as George had.

"It's true, Emilie." George placed a comforting hand on the young girl's shoulder. "Your mother was a lady in waiting at this same court when my father-in-law Henry VIII was King. I regret to say that I treated her in a manner that was less than gentlemanly. Soon she was with child, and her father arranged for her to marry and go to France."

Emilie gasped, dismayed. "You forced her, then?"

"No, I didn't force her, but I lusted after her and acted toward her in a way that I now see was immoral."

Still reeling from the shock of George's words, Emilie struggled to come to terms with this new information. "Does the Queen know?"

"She knows of your existence, but she doesn't yet know that you're now at court."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"Of course. Why shouldn't I?"

"I fear she'll really hate me."

"Of course she won't. Why should she?"

"I think if I were her I would."

'Listen, Emilie. The Queen is a very gracious, understanding, and forgiving woman. I promise you, she isn't going to hate you."

Emilie was visibly relieved. "But what shall I do now?"

"You shall return to your position as a lady in waiting, at least for the time being. I'll discuss the situation with the Queen, and we'll decide where to go from there."

Emilie thought of something. "But if you're my true father, that means that Katherine, Julia, Margery, and Cecily are my half sisters, and Nicky's my half brother."

"Yes, that's right." The thought had just occurred to George as well.

"Earlier we were all playing in the field and Nicky fell and skinned his knee. The other girls seemed just as concerned as if it had been a far more serious injury."

"Nicky's a free bleeder. That means that he bleeds much more easily and for a much longer time than normal."

"Someone named Brother Christopher was also mentioned."

"He's a holy man who claims to have the gift of healing. He's been able to help Nicky in situations where even the doctor is totally helpless. The Queen thinks the world of him. I appreciate the help he's given Nicky, but I fear that the hold he has over the Queen is a bad thing and could ultimately prove dangerous, perhaps very dangerous."

* * *

><p>George approached his bedchambers with trepidation. He remembered how upset Mary had been all those years ago when he had told her of Emilie's birth. What would her reaction be to the news that she was now at court?<p>

Mary smiled invitingly and made room for him on the bed as he approached her.

"I can tell that something's on your mind," she told him.

"Mary, darling, I'm not quite sure how to say this, but..."

Mary was immediately alarmed. "Did something happen to one of the children? To Nicky?"

"Oh no, no, nothing like that."

She sighed with relief.

"It's simply that...you remember that I fathered a daughter before we were wed."

"Yes."

"Well, my daughter, Emilie, is now fifteen years old and has come to the palace as a lady in waiting."


	24. Emilie Part Three

Mary just stared, unable to say a word. She had thought that George's casual affair with the former Frances Guilford was a thing of the distance past, never to be resurrected again. She'd never dreamed that it might have repercussions that would come back to haunt her someday.

"How did you find out?" she finally asked George.

"She and Katherine exchanged places today as a joke. I knew that something was amiss and confronted her this evening, and she admitted what they had done. I asked her some questions about her family and background, and when she told me her mother's name and her birthday, I realized that she was my daughter."

"So we really had lunch with Emilie rather than Katherine today."

"Yes."

"She does look remarkably like Katherine, and also like yourself."

"Which explains the temporary success of their ruse," George reasoned.

So not only was George's secret daughter at court, but Mary had actually already met her. Mary wasn't sure whether to feel outraged or simply surprised, but in the end realized that she was merely overwhelmingly curious.

"Where is she now?" she asked George.

"She has returned to her position amongst the ladies in waiting," he told her.

"I want to meet with her tomorrow," Mary said.

"I'm sure that could be arranged," George replied.

Mary turned her back on him and went to sleep.

* * *

><p>Emilie was nervous as she entered the Queen's chambers the following day. Would Mary be angry at her for her part in the ruse? Despite George's reassurances of the previous evening, she knew that Mary was not particularly happy about her presence at court, and she felt badly about causing the Queen discomfort.<p>

"Hello." Mary smiled warmly. "You are Emilie."

"Y-yes, Your Majesty." Emilie noticed that George and Katherine were also present.

"You two do look amazingly alike," Mary remarked.

"Please don't be angry, Mother," Katherine said. "We were only in fun, and anyway, it was my idea. Emilie only went along with it to please me."

Emilie looked gratefully at Katherine. She was amazed that the Princess had actually spoken in her defense.

"I am surprised rather than angry," Mary said. "Surprised that not only does my daughter have a double, but that double is actually her half sister, as it turns out."

Emilie watched as Katherine's mouth fell open in shock.

"It's true," George told her. "Before I married your mother, Katherine, I had a casual fling with a lady in waiting named Frances Guilford. When Frances became pregnant, her father arranged for her to marry a member of French royalty and move to France, where Emilie was born and lived until coming to court here in England."

"We're sisters, then." Katherine looked in amazement at Emilie.

"Yes," Emilie said softly. "I'm really Emily Boleyn, not Emilie Boisseau." The two girls embraced. George smiled happily, but Mary looked a bit sad.

"But I wonder why my mother never told me," Emily continued.

"She should have," George said softly. "She promised me that I could exchange letters with you as soon as you were old enough to write. I wrote several letters but never got a response to any of them. Did she never even tell you about them, then?"

"No, Your Grace. She never did," Emily said sadly.

George went to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Please believe me, Emily. I wanted a relationship with you, truly I did, but when I never received an answer to any of my letters, I assumed that it was because you didn't want to talk to me. I never even considered that she would deliberately keep me from being able to communicate with you."

Emily was crying. George embraced her. "There now, darling, it's all right. Everything's all right now."

"No, it's _not _all right," Emily said angrily. "She should have told me."

"I suppose she had her reasons," George said stiffly, trying not to let Emily see the anger he felt toward her mother.

"But what shall I do now?" asked Emily.

"That's up to you, Emily," George said kindly. "Would you like to remain here at court as a lady in waiting?"

"Oh, yes!" Emily exclaimed.

"You may remain here at court for as long as you want, then," George told her.

"But what shall I call you?"

George looked thoughtful. "What do you call your mother's husband?"

"I have always called him _Pere," _said Emily.

"You may call me Papa, if you feel comfortable doing so," George told her. "If not, you may simply call me George."

"Neither seems quite right to me," said Emily.

"Well, how about 'Papa George', then?" George suggested.

"I think I like that better." Emily smiled.

George gave her another quick hug and then rejoined his wife, while Emily went to rejoin the other ladies in waiting. She felt as if her entire world had been turned upside down. Things that she had always simply assumed to be true had turned out to be not true at all. She felt as if she didn't really know who she was anymore.

"Are you going to Brother Christopher's prayer meeting Friday?" Another lady in waiting, Joan, interrupted Emily's reverie.

"Brother Christopher? Prince Nicholas' faith healer?"

"None other." Joan smiled. "He has a prayer meeting every Friday for all the ladies in waiting. We always really enjoy it." Joan winked at Emily, so Emily supposed that there must be a bit more to it than simply a prayer meeting. She was curious, and also eager to fit in with the other ladies in waiting, so she told Joan that yes, she'd go.


	25. An Unpleasant Surprise

Emily didn't quite know what to expect as she joined the other ladies in waiting in Brother Christopher's chambers. She'd never been to a prayer meeting before and wasn't quite sure what they were.

Presently Brother Christopher appeared, looking very solemn and proper. "Greetings, my sisters, in the name of the Lord," he said.

"Greetings, Brother Christopher," the young women all replied in unison.

"Before we begin, let us partake of the holy wine," Brother Christopher intoned. He produced a huge goblet, which he passed around to everyone in the group. Emily felt distinctly uncomfortable with the proceedings and pretended to take a sip when the goblet was passed to her.

"And now, let us enjoy some sacred music," Brother Christopher continued when the goblet was passed to him. From behind a curtain emerged a young man with a lute, who began to play a hypnotic melody. Under the influence of the drugged wine, the young women began to move to the music. Their dancing became faster and more erratic, until finally one of the young women disappeared with Brother Christopher behind a curtain. A few moments later, she re-emerged with disheveled clothing and a deeply flushed face, and the next young woman in line disappeared behind the curtain. It was obvious to Emily what was going on. Shocked and sickened, she hurriedly fled Brother Christopher's chambers before she could be missed.

* * *

><p>Emily was in a great deal of emotional turmoil for days. Should she tell her father and the Queen what really transpired during Brother Christopher's 'prayer meetings'? She knew how much the royal family depended upon Brother Christopher's healing powers to stop poor Nicky's uncontrollable bleeding episodes. They would be devastated to learn of his true nature. In the end, she decided that she simply couldn't.<p>

One day the royal family paid a visit to the Wyatts. Emily accompanied them. Mary and Anne shared a warm embrace. Since the death of Henry, they'd become very good friends. Emily was delighted to meet more new relatives.

"So you're my long lost niece," Anne said to her.

"Yes." Emily smiled shyly.

"I can see so much of your father in you," Anne told her. "What was it like to find out that the man you'd always thought was your father wasn't your true father at all?"

"It was a real shock at first," Emily admitted. "But I'm very happy to have met Papa George and gotten to know him. My mother's husband has always been very kind to me and treated me like his own daughter. I truly don't want to hurt him, but now that I know the truth, I don't think that I can go on pretending to be his daughter."

"So you're my cousin as well." Emily turned to see Elizabeth, who was several years older than herself.

"You have your mother's eyes," Emily remarked. "But not her hair."

"No," Elizabeth agreed. "I have my father the King's hair, as well as his complexion and temperament."

"Did you know him well?" asked Emily.

"Not really well," Elizabeth replied. "I was not quite three when he divorced my mother. My mother's husband, Thomas Wyatt, has been much more of a father to me than he ever was."

"So we have something in common, then, as we both have a loving stepfather." Emily smiled.

"I hadn't thought of it like that before, but you're right," Elizabeth agreed. "Yet there's one thing about my Uncle George's family that has always puzzled me. Why has a common peasant such as Brother Christopher always been held in such high esteem by them? I know it has something to do with Nicky's illness, but aren't there doctors who can help him?"

"The Queen says that Brother Christopher can help Nicky even when the doctors can't. She has complete trust in him, yet there are things about him that even she doesn't know."

"Like what?" Elizabeth was intrigued.

Suddenly Emily could contain her secret no longer. All the details of Brother Christopher's 'prayer meeting' came pouring out of her. "He gives these girls wine with something mixed into it to make them more willing, then plays music to influence their emotions even more, then takes them behind a curtain one at a time and beds them."

Elizabeth's eyes widened with shock. "And you actually saw this happen?"

Emily nodded. "I got away from there really fast before it could get to me."

"Have you told anyone?" asked Elizabeth.

"No. You're the first person I've told. Can't you see? It would completely rip their world apart if they knew the truth about him."

"So what are you going to do?" asked Elizabeth.

"I truly don't know," Emily admitted.


	26. Brother Christopher's Curse

"That was the third peasant this week to have accused Brother Christopher of seducing his wife," George told Mary. Fearing a possible emotional outburst, he'd dreaded telling his wife the news, yet realized that it was his duty to do so.

"They're liars, every single one of them," Mary said. "They're simply jealous that our good Brother Christoper has risen from the ranks of his humble origins to the position he now holds, and which he richly deserves. God has granted him special healing powers, George. How many times would our precious little Nicky have bled to death if not for him?"

"But sweetheart, he may well have a gift for healing, but it doesn't necessarily follow that he also has a gift for ruling a country. Look how much power you've given him!" George was, in fact, truly appalled at the amount of her own authority Mary had handed over to the mysterious monk, and had been eagerly awaiting an opportunity to bring the subject up.

"I haven't given him a single responsibility that he hasn't earned," Mary retorted. George sighed, shaking his head helplessly.

Just then little Cecily ran up to her parents, her face flushed and a frightened look in her eyes. "Mama, Papa, Nicky fell down again, and he's bleeding really bad this time!" she cried.

* * *

><p>"The little one is all right now. His bleeding has stopped," Brother Christopher said serenely, looking from Nicholas' sleeping form to Mary.<p>

"Thank God!" Mary exclaimed, embracing the monk. "I don't know what in the world we'd do without you, Brother Christopher."

"I'm only thankful that God has allowed his humble servant to be of help to you," Brother Christopher said meekly.

"I pray that God will deal with the gossip mongers, those who spread lies about you," Mary continued.

"God will deal with them accordingly," Brother Christopher assured her. "All who come against me shall be vanquished, and should you, or any member of your family, eventually come to believe them and turn against me as well, God will take from you both your kingdom and your son."

* * *

><p>"Greetings, my brethren in Christ," said Brother Christopher as he joined William Stafford and Thomas Wyatt at their table. "To what do I owe your generous invitation?"<p>

"Why, we simply wanted to show our gratitude for everything you've done for our nephew, the heir to the throne," William told him.

"It all looks so delicious," Brother Christopher said. "Won't you share this feast with me?"

"Oh, no," William insisted. "Please. It's all for you. Our wives prepared it for you themselves, and you wouldn't want to insult them by not eating every bite of their cooking yourself, would you?"

"Why, of course not!" Brother Christopher smiled as he bit into the first sweetened biscuit.

Several minutes later, William's eyes met Thomas', and they both frowned. Brother Christopher shouldn't even still be conscious by now, yet there he sat, cheerfully consuming the poisoned biscuits and chatting away.

Beginning to feel frantic, William suddenly grabbed a sword and plunged it into Brother Christopher's side. The monk grunted, his face turned ashen, and his eyes rolled back into his head. Yet he continued to breathe, continued to move.

Now truly bewildered, William glanced desperately at his brother-in-law. _The river, _Thomas mouthed silently. Swiftly, the two men lifted Brother Christopher's body and carried it outside to the carriage in the dead of night.

They drove to the bridge, where they bound the hands and feet of the still-conscious Brother Christopher and tossed him into the Thames.

* * *

><p>The enormity of what he and William had done didn't really hit Thomas until it was all over and he was on his way back home. Until then he'd been running on adrenaline, automatically going through the motions of what he and William had planned. Yet now that their mission was finally completed and Brother Christopher's body floated down the Thames, he could feel his physiology, as well as his thought processes, returning to normal. By the time he entered his home, he was shaking profusely.<p>

"Thomas! Whatever is the matter?" Anne's voice was full of concern as she helped her husband to the sofa.

"We did it! William and I, we did it!"

"Did _what?"_

"Brother Christopher..." Suddenly Thomas was sobbing. "We killed him, Anne...we killed Brother Christopher..."

_"No!" _Anne was shocked.

"William and I...we knew that it had gone too far, that something had to be done...but we knew that Mary wouldn't listen, that we'd have to take matters into our own hands...dear God, Anne, I killed another human being..."

* * *

><p>"I'm very sorry, Your Grace," the police constable told the Queen. "He was found floating in the Thames. Someone had stabbed him in the side, and the wound had bled into the water. His lungs were also full of water. Rest assured that my men will do their best to find the culprit, or culprits."<p>

"No!" In her mind's eye Mary saw a vision, a very vivid one, of her Nicholas, her baby, lying in bed, bleeding helplessly. Who would stop his bleeding now? "No! No! _No!"_


	27. Civil War

"Mary, my darling!" George embraced his wife in an attempt to comfort her. "It's going to be all right. Everything will be all right. Brother Christopher's killer, or killers, will be found very soon."

"But what about Nicky?" Mary cried in despair. "Who will help our son when he bleeds now?"

"The court physicians are very capable," George said soothingly.

"But they don't have Brother Christopher's healing powers!" Mary wailed.

What George didn't tell Mary was that he had a pretty good idea of the identities of Brother Christopher's killers. On a recent visit to Thomas and Anne's home, he'd overheard Thomas and William talking quietly between themselves when they hadn't realized that he was nearby. What Mary didn't tell George was what Brother Christopher had warned her would happen if any member of the royal family or any of their relatives ever came against him.

* * *

><p>Although a great wail of mourning arose amongst the other ladies-in-waiting at the news of Brother Christopher's death, Emily secretly rejoiced. Ever since she'd learned what really went on during the monk's so-called prayer meetings, she'd felt repulsed at the very sight of him. Now that he was gone, she debated whether or not to share her secret with anyone else and finally decided to confide in the member of the royal family to whom she felt closest, her half sister, Katherine.<p>

Katherine's mouth dropped open after Emily had finished telling her what had transpired during the only one of such meetings she'd attended.

"But Mama has always insisted that he was a holy man, and that everything he did was holy!" she exclaimed.

Emily shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid there's a lot about him that your mother the Queen never knew."

"But why did you never tell us anything until now?" asked Katherine.

"I knew how dependent your mother was on Brother Christopher because of Nicky's bleeding problem, and how upset she would have been to have learned the truth about him."

"We don't know who's going to help Nicky now. The things the doctors try don't always work," Katherine said with a sigh. "Well, anyway, I'm sure glad you didn't drink that wine he passed around."

"So am I," Emily agreed. "I really hate to think what might have happened if I had."

* * *

><p>One day a group of soldiers arrived at Whitehall Palace.<p>

"We have come to escort you and your family to safety in East Anglia," they told Mary. "Civil war has just erupted in England. The peasants have revolted, and their leader, Oliver Cromwell, is angry about the power you took away from Parliament and gave to Brother Christopher. As I'm sure you recall, when the members of Parliament protested your decision, you became angry and limited their power even further."

"But now that our dear Brother Christopher is dead, their power has been restored," Mary objected.

"I'm afraid it's too late for restitution," the general told her. "There have been numerous threats against your life, and those of your family members. We fear that those threats may well be acted upon, which is why I must insist that you all accompany us to East Anglia without delay."

"Whitehall Palace is my home, and I shall be driven from it by no one," Mary said firmly. "It is very well guarded, and any intruders shall be promptly dealt with."

"Darling, I think that in this instance you should take heed," George pleaded with his wife. "The general and his men would never have come before your presence unless there was genuine cause for concern."

"Nevertheless, my decision stands," Mary replied in a voice that left no room for argument. George glanced helplessly at the soldiers, who turned to leave.

* * *

><p>It was several days later that George noticed highly suspicious activity in the vicinity of a storage room beneath Whitehall Palace. Realizing that to arrest the possible conspirators may prove to be futile, as they possibly had any number of co-conspirators, some of who may indeed be spying on him where he stood, George knew that something else would have to be done, and that there was no time for delay.<p>

George rushed right back into the palace and found the court physician, who gave him a small vial containing a white powder. After being assured that it would cause Mary no permanent damage, he waited patiently for an opportunity to slip it into her drink without being noticed.


	28. The House Of Special Purpose

Mary awoke from what she knew to be the soundest sleep she'd ever had in her life to find herself lying in a moving carriage with George sitting beside her.

"Are you all right?" he asked anxiously.

"I suppose so," she replied, feeling totally disoriented. "Where am I?"

"We're on our way to East Anglia," George told her.

In a flash, Mary realized what had happened. "You drugged me!" She lunged at George furiously, trying to attack him. He grabbed both her arms and held them gently.

"Please forgive me, darling," he said. "There was simply no other way. You were so adamant in your refusal to leave, yet I knew that if we were to stay in the palace for another day, we would surely all be killed."

"How do you know?" Mary demanded.

George sighed. "I saw a group of men whispering amongst themselves outside the palace. I suspected that they were planning to storm the palace, and if that were so, we would surely be put to death."

Mary's eyes widened in fright. "Where are the children?"

"Here we are, Mama," little Cecily piped up. Mary saw that she was sitting with her sisters and Nicholas and Emily in the carriage. Katherine had refused to leave with the rest of the family unless Emily accompanied them.

At last the group arrived at a very unassuming, single-story white house.

"What _is _this place?" Mary asked, incredulous.

"We call it 'The House Of Special Purpose'," one of the guards told her. "You'll be safe here."

Accustomed to the splendor of Whitehall Palace, the family was shocked at the spartan interior of The House Of Special Purpose.

"We can't stay _here!"_ Katherine whispered to Emily.

"I'm sure it's only temporary," Emily whispered back. "Just until it's safe to return to Whitehall Palace."

The younger children soon began to whine, and Nicholas threatened to throw a tantrum if he couldn't go back home right away.

"No!" Mary's eyes widened in horror as she held her small son's body tightly to her own. They all knew that Nicholas would invariably hurt himself if he threw a tantrum, and this time, Brother Christopher wouldn't be there to help.

* * *

><p>Several days later, horrifying news came from London. Later on the same day that the royal family had fled, a man named Guy Fawkes had been discovered guarding stockpiled gunpowder in a storage area beneath Whitehall Palace. Fawkes admitted to being part of a conspiracy to blow up the palace and was sentenced to be executed. Before he could be hung, he jumped from the scaffold and broke his neck, thus avoiding being drawn and quartered.<p>

Mary was filled with remorse over her refusal to leave at the time the messengers had warned her to and apologized over and over to George for getting angry at him for drugging her.

"It's all right, sweetheart," George said soothingly. "We're safe now. That's all that matters."

* * *

><p>At first, the family was treated kindly at The House Of Special Purpose. They were fed well, all their needs were met, and they were allowed to do pretty much whatever they wanted. After several weeks, without notice or explanation, their guards were replaced by a new group of guards. The new guards treated them cruelly, feeding them barely enough to survive on and not allowing them outside the house.<p>

One day one of the guards spoke rudely to Mary, and Nicholas, who was standing nearby, overheard.

"My mother is the Queen of England!" he shouted angrily at the guard. "She is to be addressed only as 'Your Majesty', 'Your Highness', or 'Your Grace'!"

"Not anymore, she isn't!" the guard growled roughly. "She's our prisoner now!"

Quick as lightning, Nicholas kicked the guard in the leg, and the guard gave an angry howl and pushed him roughly down the stairs to the basement below.

"Nicky!" Mary screamed, hurtling down the stairs herself. George heard the commotion and came over to investigate, only to find his wife at the bottom of the stairs cradling the limp, still body of their son.

"Oh, dear _God," _he groaned.


	29. Escape Plan

"He's in shock, but he's still alive," Dr. Booth told George and Mary. Because of Nicholas' condition, the doctor, as well as several servants, had been allowed to come to the House Of Special Purpose with the royal family.

"Right now, there's no way to predict whether or not he'll survive his injuries," Dr. Booth continued. "All I can do is monitor the bleeding closely, and if he's still alive several hours from now and the bleeding has slowed significantly, chances are he'll eventually recover, although I doubt he'll ever walk again."

"Oh, Nicky!" Mary sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "If only Brother Christopher were here!"

"He's in God's hands now, darling." George embraced his wife and tried to comfort her. "We must trust Him to save our little Nicky."

"It should have been me instead of him," said Cecily, who'd heard every word of the conversation.

"That's a terrible thing to say!" George gasped.

"There's three other girls besides me. Nicky's the only boy," Cecily pointed out.

George lifted his daughter, hugged her tightly, and kissed her cheek. "We must pray for your little brother to get well again," he told her.

"Yes, Papa," said Cecily. "I'm going to pray for him right now." She did.

"Good news," Dr. Booth said several hours later. "The bleeding has slowed. The danger has passed."

"Thank God!" said Mary.

"I prayed, Mama," said Cecily.

"You're a darling, precious girl," her mother told her. "The Lord will reward you for the love you have for your brother."

A couple of hours after that, Nicholas opened his eyes. "What happened, Mama?" he asked weakly.

"You fell down the stairs," Mary told him. "But you're going to be all right. The Lord has spared you."

Nicholas blinked in disbelief.

* * *

><p>Days passed. Nicholas lay in bed, hardly able to move at all. Cecily spent nearly every waking hour by his bedside, talking to him and playing with him.<p>

"I think a flower would make this room look more cheerful," Nicholas told Cecily one day. "Will you go outside and pick a flower for me, Cecily?"

"Of course I will," Cecily said. She knew of a small door in the back of the house that was usually left unguarded.

As soon as she was outside, Cecily heard muffled voices and realized that several guards were talking nearby. By hiding behind a conveniently located bush, she found that she could hear them clearly.

"Their supporters know where they are and will soon be here to rescue them," one guard said. "When that happens, we shall all be captured and hung for treason, and the monarchy shall be restored to England. What shall we do?"

"The only solution I can think of would be to eliminate them all as quickly as possible," said another guard.

"But how shall we do that?" asked a third guard.

"Here's a plan," said the first guard. "We shall wait until the middle of the night, then awaken them and tell them that they are in danger here and that we are going to take them to safety. Then we shall force them all into the basement and, once they are all together, we shall beat and stab them all to death."

"Even the little ones?" asked the second guard, incredulous.

"Even the little ones," the first guard replied. "As long as even one of them remains alive, there's a chance that monarchy shall one day be reestablished in England."

Horrified, Cecily ran back into the house as quickly as her legs could carry her. She knew that she had to find her father as soon as possible.

"Papa!" she cried, nearly colliding with George.

"Cecily! Whatever is the matter?" George asked softly, his voice full of concern.

"They plan to kill us!" Cecily told him. "We must escape as quickly as possible!" Breathlessly, she told her father of the conversation she'd overheard. When she'd finished, George looked thoughtful.

"We wouldn't have much of a chance of escaping in the daylight," he finally said. "Tonight we'll retire as we usually do, but as soon as the guards have left us, we'll sneak out a window and take the horse and carriage. Hopefully, by the time they've noticed that we're gone, we'll be well on our way to Scotland."

"But what about Nicky? He can't even walk, and he certainly can't climb through a window!"

"We'll simply have to carry him out the window and to the carriage. It's very risky, but it's the only choice available to us. We can't just wait around to be killed, can we?"

"Don't say anything yet to your sisters or to Nicky," George continued. "It's essential that the guards don't overhear anything. I'll tell everyone individually myself at the appropriate time."

Still somewhat shaken but overall relieved, Cecily watched as her father went to share the plan with her mother.


	30. Safe At Last

"But why do we have to leave again, Mama?" asked Nicholas. The others had tried to make him as comfortable as possible in the carriage. He lay with his head resting in his mother's lap, and she gently stroked his hair as they rode along.

"It isn't safe for us to stay there anymore, sweetheart," Mary told him. "The guards are dangerous men, and they want to hurt us. We are going to Scotland, where we'll be safe."

"The guards are horrid men," Nicholas agreed. "They spoke disrespectfully to you, and one of them pushed me down the stairs. They should be imprisoned."

"Prison's too good for the one who pushed you down the stairs. He should be executed," said Cecily.

"I'm just glad to be away from there," said Margery. "I hated living there. They treated us all like prisoners."

"That's what we _were, _to them," said Julia. The carriage went over a bump in the road, and Nicholas moaned in pain.

"My poor darling!" exclaimed Mary, cradling his head.

After awhile, the younger children began to doze, but Katherine and Emily were too anxious to fall asleep. They knew that danger lurked everywhere, that at any second, the carriage could be overcome by their enemies.

Dawn was just breaking when the carriage crossed over the border into Scotland, and George and Mary both breathed sighs of relief. Katherine and Emily, drowsy at last, dozed briefly off and on as the carriage rolled along.

* * *

><p>By the time the family reached Stirling Castle, it was mid-afternoon. Tired and emotionally drained, they were admitted to the castle and presented to Mary of Guise, the widow of Mary's first cousin, James V of Scotland. George carried his sleeping son in his arms.<p>

"We've come to appeal to your generosity and mercy," Mary told her cousin's widow. "We were driven from our beloved homeland by insurrectionists and seek shelter in your kingdom."

"I've heard of the trouble in England and am relieved to know that you've all escaped unharmed," Mary of Guise replied. "You may remain here under my protection for as long as you wish."

"Thank you very much, Your Grace," said Mary. "We're greatly indebted to you for your kindness."

"It's what the Lord would have me do," Mary of Guise told her.

* * *

><p>"It's ever so nice to be in a palace again," said Katherine. "I was so tired of that tiny, cramped house with those scary-looking guards."<p>

"At last I can write to my mother and tell her that I'm all right," said Emily. "I know she's been very worried about me."

"I've heard that Mary of Guise has a daughter who's just my age, and that her name is Mary as well," said Cecily.

"It's true," Katherine told her. "Her father was our mother's first cousin, so that makes her our second cousin. She's the heir to the Scottish throne, but she lives in France because she's betrothed to Francis I, the heir to the French throne."

"But how could there by two thrones in the same family?" asked Nicholas. The others all laughed.

"I'm glad I'm not royalty, so I can marry whomever I like," said Emily.

"Our parents have promised us that they won't force us to marry against our will," Katherine said.

"It would be nice if we could meet our cousin Mary in France," remarked Cecily.

"Maybe we will someday," Katherine replied.

* * *

><p>"I can't begin to tell you how happy I am to be here," George told Mary as he came to her that night. "And how much I've missed you." In the House Of Special Purpose, the entire family had slept in the same room.<p>

"I've missed you too, George." There were tears in Mary's eyes. "It's just been so long..."

"Entirely too long," George said softly.

"I'm so sorry, George," Mary said. "It's just that between being so worried about Nicky's health, and then what happened to Brother Christopher, and then being driven from our home..."

"There's no need to apologize, darling," George gently assured her. "I understand completely. I've been with you every step of the way, you know."

"I know you have," Mary murmured.

George began to kiss her lips and fondle her breasts. Mary put her arms around his neck and pulled him closer to her, her hands beginning to roam over his back, slowly but surely making their way toward his waist. George lifted her nightgown and pulled it over her head, exposing her breasts with their erect nipples.

"Oh, George," Mary said softly as he took each pink rosebud into his mouth and gently suckled them. At the same time, Mary's roaming hands found the hardness between his legs and began to stroke him through the material of his hose. Then she reached for its band and gently but firmly pulled it down, freeing his fully erect member. Immediately she took him into her mouth and started to pleasure him with her lips and tongue, and he began to groan softly. When he started to buck she released him and lay back on the bed. George removed her undergarments and began to stroke the moistness between her thighs until she started to moan and buck impatiently.

"Do you want it?" he asked her gently, teasingly.

"Oh, yes!" she breathed.

"Do you _really _want it?"

"Please, George..."

"Very well, then." He replaced his fingers with his mouth, and soon Mary was writhing with ecstasy. Soon he entered her and began thrusting. They both climaxed within moments, then slowly drifted to sleep held tightly in one another's arms. It was the first sound sleep either of them had had in months.


	31. Marriage Negotiations

After several bloody years, the Revolution was finally over. Monarchy was restored to England, and the royal family returned home. Mary wept unashamedly as she viewed the devastation of her homeland from the carriage. George and the children looked on silently with faces like stone. They all knew that it was absolutely imperative that Reconstruction be instituted as quickly as possible. There were just a few other items topping Mary's priority list.

Diplomatic relations were re-established with France, Spain, Portugal, the Netherlands, and all other neighboring countries. Relations with Spain immediately came to the forefront.

Mary's first cousin, Emperor Charles V of Spain, mentioned the possibility of an arranged marriage between his son Philip and Mary's half sister, Elizabeth. Mary sent for her half sister, and Elizabeth appeared before her in court. She'd grown to be a tall, slender young woman with red-blonde hair which she kept pulled back in a bun, brown eyes like her mother, and fine, delicate facial features.

"The Emperor of Spain has proposed a marriage between yourself and his son, Philip II," Mary told her. "It would strengthen our ties with Spain, which is something which I very much desire."

"Please tell him that I must decline his offer," Elizabeth told her sister.

"But why?" asked Mary, disappointed.

"I'm in love with someone else," Elizabeth told her.

"Who?" Mary demanded.

"His name is Robert Dudley, and he was a stable boy when our father was King," Elizabeth replied. "When you took the throne, you banished him and his entire family for being Protestants. Who knows, he might have even been Master of the Horse someday," Elizabeth added bitterly.

"Are you telling me that you want to marry a _commoner?" _Mary was incredulous.

"Not just any commoner, Your Grace," Elizabeth said evenly. "His father was Lord Admiral John Dudley, and his grandfather was Edmund Dudley, a minister of our grandfather, King Henry VII."

"Traitorous infidels, all of them," Mary muttered with a sigh. "Very well, then," she told Elizabeth. "Go ahead and marry your Protestant stable boy, but the minute you do, I'm removing you from the line of succession."

"Don't you think you were a bit harsh?" George asked his wife after Elizabeth had left.

"Harsh? I think I was rather lenient," Mary replied. "After all, I could have threatened both my sister and her sweetheart with imprisonment in the Tower."

George laughed and shook his head. He planned to gently dissuade his niece from marriage to Robert Dudley in private at a later time and, if that was unsuccessful, to work on softening his wife's resolve. He knew that she could never resist his charm for long.

The problem remained of finding an English bride for the Spanish prince. Mary ordered her other half sister, the young Jane Seymour, to appear before her in court. Jane was about a year younger than Mary's daughter Katherine. She was pale and blonde, with a quiet, meek demeanor.

"Emperor Charles V of Spain desires your hand in marriage to his son, Philip II," Mary told her.

"Whatever you wish, Your Grace," Jane replied without hesitation.

"The difference between those two young women is amazing," Mary commented. "It's almost like night and day."

"Both of them are much like their mothers," George observed wryly.

* * *

><p>It was not long afterwards that Emily received distressing news from France. Her mother wrote to tell her that her stepfather, Charles Boisseau, was seriously ill.<p>

"I must go to him!" Emily told George and Mary. "Before I came to court in England and learned the truth, he was just like a father to me. I couldn't bear it if he passed and I wasn't there to say good-bye to him."

"Of course, by all means!" George told her. She was relieved that he didn't react with jealousy.

"I shall have Maximilian Scheyfve, the son of my ambassador Jean Scheyfve, escort you," Mary told her.

"Thank you," said Emily. She felt much safer knowing that she'd have an escort.

Emily went to prepare for the trip, and at the appointed time, went to say good-bye to George and Mary. With them stood a young man of about her age who quite took her breath away. He was tall and slender, with light brown hair, dimples, and the clearest blue eyes she'd ever seen. He smiled at her, and her heart began to beat madly.

"Hello, Emily," he said, extending his hand. His voice was deep and rich. "I'm Maximilian Scheyfve."


	32. Max

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Scheyfve." Emily curtsied.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well, and please, just call me Max," he told her. "Are you ready to leave, then?"

"Quite ready, thank you." She knew that she was blushing and prayed that he didn't notice. He smiled, took her arm, and led her to the ship.

At first things went smoothly. Max and Emily went below deck, where he taught her how to play cards and they talked. Max told Emily what it was like to grow up as the son of the ambassador, and Emily told Max about her childhood in France.

"It was happy," she told him. "Pere always doted on me and called me his little princess. When I was four, he bought me a pony and taught me how to ride. He always bought me the latest fashions in Paris. I was the best-dressed child at court. Mama taught me to play the virginals, and I would entertain her friends when they would visit. Then when I was fifteen, my parents sent me to the English court to serve as a lady in waiting."

"That must have been quite an adjustment for you." Max had begun to lightly trail the fingers of one hand up and down Emily's arm.

"Oh, it was!" Emily exclaimed. "The greatest shock was meeting my half sister, Katherine. We look so much alike that we were able to fool the royal family for a little while."

"Intriguing." Max chuckled. "You're a very beautiful young lady, _mademoiselle."_

Emily smiled and blushed deeply. This time she was sure it must show. Max lightly touched her chin. "May I kiss you?"

His lips were warm against hers, awakening desire within her chest as well as producing an icy stab of fear at the base of her spine. His hands began to roam all over her body, exploring.

Suddenly Emily broke free. "No, please! You're going too fast!"

Max was disappointed. "Don't you like me?"

"I _do _like you, a _lot," _Emily told him. "It's just that I want to save my maidenhead for my wedding night. You see, my mother didn't, and because of that, I didn't find out who my real father was until I was fifteen, and I don't want any child of mine to go through what I went through."

"I see." Max looked thoughtful. "You're a very smart young lady, Emily."

* * *

><p>"I'm so glad to see you!" Emily's mother, Frances, said as she hugged and kissed her daughter. "It seems like forever since I last held you in my arms! You look so grown up now!"<p>

"How is he?" Emily asked breathlessly.

"He's holding his own," Frances told her. "He's awake if you'd like to see him now."

"Of course I would!"

Charles Boisseau was sitting up in bed, pale and weak but alert. His face brightened as soon as he saw Emily.

"Pere!" Emily rushed to him and kissed his cheek. "How have you been? I've been so worried about you!"

"Better now, sweetheart. It's so good to see you again."

It occurred to Emily that Charles was still unaware that she knew the truth about who her real father was, but when she saw how happy he was to see her, she simply didn't have the heart to tell him.

Charles' health improved rapidly after Emily arrived, and a few days later, she prepared to return to England with Max.

"But why do you need to return to England?" asked Charles. "Why not remain in France with us?"

"I love you, Pere," Emily told him. "But England is my home now, and after everything I've been through with the royal family, I feel such a connection to them that to me they really _are _my family. My second family, I mean," she amended quickly. It was on the tip of her tongue to say more, but somehow, the words just wouldn't come out.

A part of Emily dreaded the return trip to England with Max, fearing another situation in which she might feel compromised, but as it turned out, her fears were groundless, as Max was a perfect gentleman the entire time. In fact, Emily enjoyed the trip so much that she found it difficult to say good-bye to him when it was over.

"I really enjoyed getting to know you, Max," she told him. "I truly hope that our paths will cross again sometime."

"I hope for much more than that." Max grinned. "If it's all right with you, I'd like to ask the Queen for permission for us to wed."


	33. Philip Of Bavaria

Emily's heart was light as a feather as she and Max arrived at the villa on the beach where they'd be spending their honeymoon.

"Now we are wed," Max told her as he scooped her up into his arms and carried her over the threshold. "Now I can have you to my heart's content."

"Nothing in the world would give me more pleasure," Emily replied.

Gently he lay her on the bed and began to remove her clothing piece by piece. Her excitement grew with each uncovering as Max tenderly kissed every exposed inch of her flesh.

When she was finally naked, Max stepped back to admire her. "My God, you're beautiful," he breathed. He focused his attention on her breasts, fondling and kissing them until they ached with desire. At the same time his fingers slid between her legs, stimulating the tender flesh there until she moaned with desire.

At last he removed his own clothing, and Emily admired his muscles rippling beneath his smooth skin and his fine covering of chest hair. She gasped when she saw the rock-hard evidence of his arousal.

"Go ahead," he encouraged, taking her hand and gently guiding it to his rigid member. Gingerly she felt it, marveling at its smooth, silky texture.

Finally she lay back and waited for him to enter her.

"This may hurt a bit, but I promise it'll only be for a moment," he told her. She felt a sharp pain, and after that only ecstasy as he touched her in ways she'd never been touched before.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure, Bess, that you'll be happy with the life I can provide for you?" Robert Dudley asked his fiancee as they sat together under the shade of a tree on a grassy knoll. "You're the daughter of a King, while I'm but a lowly gentleman of modest means, outcast for my adherence to the true faith."<p>

"You've been a good friend to me since I was but eight years old and you were nine, Robin," Elizabeth replied. "It matters not to me that your family has been cast down to lowly status. It doesn't change the feelings I have for you one bit."

Robert's lips met hers, and she responded with equal fervor. Their arms encircled one another in a tender yet passionate embrace.

They were married a short time later in a quiet ceremony in a small chapel in the country. Elizabeth's stepfather, Thomas Wyatt, walked her down the aisle and gave her away. Only his wife Anne's close friendship with the Queen had saved him from being exiled for his part in the death of Brother Christopher.

Elizabeth's Uncle George smiled proudly as he watched his niece and her beloved exchange vows. After much persuasion, he'd finally convinced the Queen not to remove Elizabeth from the line of succession; however, Mary had refused to attend the wedding ceremony. _Undoubtedly due to pride, _George thought with an indulgent chuckle.

* * *

><p>One day Katherine noticed that a new man had come to court. He was dashingly handsome, with short brown hair parted on one side, a mustache and sparse beard, and hazel eyes. Katherine found that she couldn't take her eyes off him.<p>

The court musician had just started playing a new song when, to Katherine' surprise and delight, the newcomer approached her and smiled.

"May I have this dance?" he asked.

As they were dancing, the young man told Katherine about himself.

"My name is Phillip of Bavaria," he said. "My father's name was Philip, too. At one time he'd hoped to marry your mother, but your grandfather the King forbid it."

"So who'd he marry instead?"

"My mother is Brigitte, the daughter of John II, Count Palatine of Simmern," Philip told her. "May I be so bold as to say that you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen?"

Katherine looked down and blushed deeply. She was disappointed when the dance was over. She'd wanted it to last much longer.

* * *

><p>"If it please your majesty, I'd like to ask for the hand of your daughter Katherine in marriage," Philip said to Mary.<p>

Mary observed that his physical resemblance to his father was striking. It brought back bittersweet memories for her.

"I knew your father quite well," she said softly to the young man standing before her. "We were good friends at one time."

"I know." Philip smiled, a smile that touched Mary's heart. "I care deeply for Katherine, and if you'd allow us to wed, it would make me very happy. I promise to always love her and treat her with the utmost respect."

Mary only had to think about it for a minute.

"Very well," she said. "You and Katherine may wed, and I wish the greatest of happiness to you both."


	34. Meeting A Grand Duke

"I'm really going to look regal, hobbling around with a cane," Julia, the second oldest daughter of George and Mary, said glumly. She'd twisted her ankle while stepping off a curb and had to use a cane to get around while waiting for it to heal.

"Well, you'd better take care of that foot if you want it to get better," Mary told her daughter.

"How about if I give you a carriage ride around London to help take your mind off things?" George offered.

Julia immediately brightened. She loved to go for carriage rides with her father.

The carriage bearing the Prince Consort and his daughter was about halfway down Drury Lane when it came upon a magnificent procession of obviously important people. In their midst was a very handsome young man who was dressed in royal garb. He had very dark brown hair, brilliant blue eyes, and a slight mustache. Julia's heart began to beat faster as soon as she saw him. George stopped the carriage and he and Julia both got out.

"I am Prince Consort George Boleyn, and this is my daughter, Princess Julia," he said to the man who was obviously the leader of the procession.

"May I present His Imperial Highness the Grand Duke Sergei Romanov of Russia," the man replied.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both." Sergei's teeth looked very white against his tanned skin as he shook first George's hand, then Julia's.

"Oh, you have an injured leg!" He frowned with concern as he noticed Julia's cane.

"I twisted my ankle stepping off a curb," Julia admitted sheepishly.

"I'm very sorry," said Sergei. "I wish you a speedy recovery."

"Thank you." Julia smiled bravely. "I'll be fine."

Just then a sword sliced the air, leaving a gash in Sergei's head. It's owner drew back for a second swing, but this time Julia was ready. Up went her cane, neatly blocking the sword's second sweep, which was directly in line with Sergei's neck. The sword fell to the ground with a loud clatter, and the man who had brandished it took off in a flash, immediately pursued by several guards.

"My God!" Sergei grimaced with pain as he clutched his injured head. His eyes fell on Julia. "You saved my life!" His voice was soft with wonder.

"I only did what anyone would have done," Julia replied modestly, feeling awkward.

"Lovely Princess Julia." Sergei took both Julia's hands into his own and looked earnestly into her eyes. "Please do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight."

* * *

><p>Julia was completely charmed by Sergei Romanov, who was fine after the palace physician had cleaned and dressed his head wound. Sergei's charming ways and gentle demeanor simply swept her off her feet.<p>

"I've never been outside the British Isles," she told him. "Tell me, what's Russia like?"

"It's very different from your home." Sergei chuckled. "It's a much larger country, with miles and miles of forests and plains. It gets very cold in the northernmost parts such as Siberia, much colder than it gets here. In the big cities, like St. Petersburg, there are many magnificent cathedrals and other types of architecture."

"Oh, how I'd love to go there someday!" Julia exclaimed.

"God willing, you will," said Sergei. "So, tell me about your family."

"My father grew up in the country," Julia began. "My mother's parents divorced when she was only a little bit younger than I am now. She's always been very devoted to the true faith. My older sister, Katherine, lives in Bavaria, Germany, with her husband, Philip. I also have two younger sisters and a younger brother."

"What about you, Julia? Are you also devoted to the true faith?"

"I am devoted to God, but I am not as confident that he can be reached through only one path as my mother is."

* * *

><p>"My answer is no. It is absolutely out of the question," Queen Mary said to Sergei Romanov. "For my daughter Julia to forsake the true faith and embrace yours would be to put her mortal soul in danger, and if that is the condition that must be met, I must say no to your request of her hand in marriage."<p>

"But shouldn't Julia's faith be a personal matter between herself and God alone?"

"My daughter shall never forsake the leadership of our blessed Pope." Mary's eyes blazed, and her lips were pursed in anger. "I suggest you search for a bride amongst your own people, Grand Duke Romanov."

Dejected, Sergei went to find Julia and tell her the bad news.


	35. The Stowaway

"Your mother refuses to allow us to marry," Sergei told Julia.

"But your religion is almost identical to my own, save you swear no allegiance to the Pope," said Julia.

"To her that is everything," Sergei replied.

"But what if she's wrong?" Julia mused. "What if the Pope _isn't_ infallible, after all? What if he's just a man? I would be throwing away a chance for happiness for nothing!"

Sergei put a finger to her lips. "You'd best not let your mother hear you say such things," he said. "Perhaps it's for the best. There are many eligible princes of the Catholic faith who would make fine husbands. In time you'll forget all about me." His hand gently caressed her chin. "But I shall never forget you, beautiful Julia."

"Before you leave, may I please have a good-bye kiss?"

Softly his lips brushed her own, and then he was gone.

* * *

><p>The sun hadn't yet risen. Julia's heart pounded as her feet raced across the dewy grass. She knew she'd never see her parents or siblings again, but she was doing her best not to think about that. Foremost in her mind was the task ahead of her, and she prayed that things would work out as she hoped.<p>

At last she arrived at the carriage, carefully climbed aboard, and curled into as small a space as possible, pulling a blanket over her body until she was almost completely covered and only a small opening was left for the circulation of air.

Within moments she was asleep once again, and as the carriage's wheels began to turn, she slept well into the morning.

Julia's hunger awakened her several hours later. She was unaccustomed to skipping breakfast, yet she dared not risk making her presence known, as it wasn't yet too late for the entourage to turn around and take her back to England.

Eventually the carriage stopped, and Julia could hear its occupants dismounting and preparing to eat their noon meal. Her own stomach growled so loudly that she was genuinely afraid that it would alert the others to her presence.

After what seemed like a very long time, the carriage began to move again, soon lulling Julia back to sleep.

The afternoon passed, and the sun began to set. The carriage stopped at an inn, and as soon as she was absolutely certain that all its occupants had gone inside, Julia climbed out of the carriage herself to forage for nuts and berries. She was back in her hiding place well before the following dawn.

The next several days passed in a very similar manner.

* * *

><p>"She's gone!" Mary clung to her husband and sobbed. "She's run away to join that Russian heretic! She's placed her immortal soul in danger for the sake of youthful lust!"<p>

"There, there," George soothed, patting her back in an attempt to comfort her. "We'll see her again soon. She'll come to her senses and return to England."

As Mary looked into his eyes, she could see that he was every bit as worried as she was and was trying to be brave for her sake.

"But even if she _does_ come to her senses, how will she get back? Some of the countries she's traveling through may be hostile to ours, and besides that, it's far too dangerous for a young woman to travel alone."

"That _is _a concern," George conceded. "We'll have to simply trust God to take care of her. Remember, everything's under His control, and His will shall be done. If it's His will for our Julia to return to us, then we've nothing to worry about."

"And if that _isn't _His will?" Suddenly Mary was crying hard again, and George held her and comforted her as best he could.

* * *

><p>One afternoon, Sergei and his traveling companions had stopped to rest when they crossed paths with a hunter and his pack of hounds. They paid no mind until suddenly one of the hounds broke away from the pack and ran to the carriage in which Julia was hiding, barking furiously.<p>

"What on earth?" Sergei set his food down and went to investigate. He lifted the blanket under which Julia was hiding and began to search for the cause of the dog's behavior. He didn't have to look for very long.

"Princess Julia of England!" he exclaimed. "What on earth are _you _doing here?"


	36. For The Sake Of True Love

"I couldn't bear to never see you again," Julia said. "I love you, Sergei, and this was the only way I could think of for us to be together. Please, oh _please, _don't send me back to England!"

The shocked look on Sergei's face was immediately replaced with one of tender amusement. He chuckled and shook his head. "The last thing on earth I want is a war between your country and mine, which is almost certainly what the outcome would be if I failed to do so."

"Please, Sergei, just let me send a message to my parents," Julia begged. "The message would reach England at least as quickly as I would, if I were to be sent back. As soon as my parents know that I'm alive and safe, they'll be so relieved that they won't insist on my being sent back to England. I _know _they won't, Sergei."

"I can certainly see that your love for me is sincere," said Sergei. "You've completely given up your old life to follow me into what to you is the total unknown. That took courage, determination, and..." He seemed to be searching for just the right word. "Spunk." He finally found it. "Very admirable qualities, I must say."

Julia smiled hopefully.

"Dearest Yulia." Sergei caressed her cheek gently. "I fell in love with you the second I laid eyes upon you, and in the time I've gotten to know you, my affection for you has only grown deeper. At the risk of sounding...improper, I am truly overjoyed at seeing you again. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sweet Yulia. Will you marry me?"

"Oh, yes, Sergei!"

"You will, of course, have to convert to the Russian Orthodox faith."

"How soon can I do that?"

Sergei laughed indulgently. "My goodness, you _are _eager. I'll speak to the priest about it as soon as I see him again. In the meantime, please join me in my carriage for the remainder of the trip home. You'll be much more comfortable than you've been in the supply carriage so far. Poor girl, what have you had to eat since we left London?"

"At night, when you stop at an inn, I've been sneaking away to forage for nuts and berries."

"My God, Yulia, you must be starving! Please have some bread and cheese. I believe there may be a bit of dried venison left as well."

"You're so kind."

"It's the least I can do for the brave young Englishwoman who not only saved my life but entrusted me with her heart as well."

Julia enjoyed the remainder of the trip to St. Petersburg. Sergei was very loving and attentive toward her, taking pains to make sure that she had enough to eat and was comfortable. At night, he refused to go into the inn and leave her alone in the carriage, so they slept together in the carriage.

Julia was awed at her first glimpse of the palace in St. Petersburg. It was even larger and grander than Whitehall Palace was. Sergei took Julia for a grand tour, then got her settled into the luxurious quarters where she would be staying until the wedding could take place.

Julia wrote to her parents right away, and sent the letter to England as quickly as possible.

Sergei's priest began giving Julia lessons in Russian Orthodox beliefs right away. She was an eager and enthusiastic pupil and was soon ready for the conversion ceremony, after which the wedding would take place.

Sergei spent every spare moment that he could with Julia, taking her for walks in the palace gardens or around the city, introducing her to his friends and relatives, and helping her study. They both looked forward to their upcoming wedding with happy anticipation.

* * *

><p>Mary's body shook with fury as she showed the letter to her husband.<p>

"She's done it!" she cried. "She's stolen away in secret to join the Russian Grand Duke and intends to marry him and abandon the true faith! Oh, George, what _shall _we do?"

George's eyes quickly scanned the letter. "Well, at least she's alive and well," he said at last. "And she went of her own free will. She wasn't kidnapped."

"We shall travel to Russia right away and bring her back!" Mary cried.

"Are you sure that would be the right thing to do?" George asked. "It's obvious that she and Sergei are deeply in love. To try to separate them now would only make them both miserable."

Mary just glared at him in response, not saying anything.

George sighed and took both her hands into his own. "Try to remember, darling, when you and I first fell in love. What if one of my own, or one of _your _own, relatives had come between us and tried to separate us? You know that it would have broken both our hearts."

Mary thought back on the first conversation she'd had with George the first time she'd seen him again after her mother had died. She remembered praying before the altar, of the vision of her mother that had come to her. And she felt ashamed of herself.


	37. Sergei And Julia's Wedding

The day of Sergei and Julia's wedding finally arrived, and it was a joyous day with much celebration. The Russian Orthodox cathedral was filled with Sergei's beaming relatives, and before the same priest who had converted Julia to the Russian Orthodox faith, Sergei and Julia repeated their vows, and then Sergei lifted Julia's veil and kissed her lips.

A reception with dancing followed. The court musicians played, and Julia danced with all the Russian Grand Dukes and other noblemen present, finally ending up with Sergei, who spun her around happily.

Later it was time for Sergei and Julia to open their wedding presents. They received many lovely gifts, but the one that made Julia the happiest was the set of silverware that her parents had sent from England, along with the accompanying note. 'Dearest Julia, We wish you all the happiness in the world as you and Sergei begin your new life together. May the Lord bless and keep you and give you many years filled of joy."

"I'm so glad they've finally accepted you into the family," Julia told her new husband.

"I knew they'd come around." Sergei winked at her and kissed her cheek.

That evening the newlyweds had a simple but elegant dinner by candlelight. The wine had them both feeling pleasantly mellow, and soon they were both touching one another in little ways, timidly at first, then more boldly. After dinner, they slow danced, and although they were both still fully clothed, Julia reveled in the sensation of Sergei's firm body snug against her own.

"Beautiful Yulia," he breathed into her ear. "At last you are my own." His words drove her wild.

At last he took her hand and led her into his bedchambers. Julia felt as if she were floating on air as he slowly removed one article of clothing after another until she stood before him completely naked. "You are so beautiful," he whispered as his eyes eagerly drank her in before beginning to remove his own clothing.

"I want to see you," Julia whispered, her hand moving to touch his most intimate parts.

"Of course." He watched as her fingers gently explored, moving over every inch of his newly exposed skin.

Gently he laid her back on the bed, then parted her legs and began to stimulate her in places where no one had ever touched her before, sending waves of pleasure cascading over her entire body.

"That feels really nice," she told him. He chuckled softly and climbed on top of her, positioning himself at her opening. Gently he pressed forward and met with resistance.

"I don't want to hurt you," he whispered.

"It's all right," she said bravely. He pushed past the resistance, and she felt a sharp pain.

"Oh!" she gasped.

"Are you all right?" Her voice was full of concern.

"Yes."

He moaned softly as he thrust again and was all the way inside her. Only several thrusts later he was grunting his release. Then it was over and he lay in bed holding her.

"Isn't it supposed to last longer than that?" she asked hesitantly, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

"I don't know," he confessed. "That was my first time, too."

"Really?" she cried, a thrill running through her. She could scarcely believe his words. "But you're so handsome, so charming, so..."

Sergei chuckled. "Well, believe it or not, I'm also very shy. Besides, I've always been determined to save myself for the right woman, and that's you, Julia."

"Well...thank you, Sergei. I'm very deeply honored."

"It hasn't been easy," Sergei admitted. "There's a dancing girl at court here who's long sought an intimate physical relationship with me. Her name is Matilda Komarova. I'm sure you've probably noticed her."

Instantly Julia knew the woman he was talking about. She was petite, dark, black-haired, and always seemed to be frowning whenever Julia was around. Julia had the distinct impression that the woman disliked her but had never understood why that was so.

"I must confess, if you hadn't hidden in the carriage and come back with me as you did, I would have been so heartbroken and destitute that I probably would have given in to her. She'd already worn my resistance down quite a bit at the time I left for England."

"Well, then, it's a good thing I listened to my heart!"

"A _very _good thing." Sergei laughed and hugged her tightly. Julia thought of the fire she'd seen in Matilda's eyes and felt a cold chill go down her spine.


	38. An Ill-Fated Visit

While Julia was adjusting to married life with Sergei in Russia, George and Mary were enjoying their growing family in England. Max and Emily were now the parents of a two-year-old son, Gregory, and Philip and Katherine were the parents of a two-year-old daughter, Bridget. They were traveling from Bavaria to visit Katherine's parents, and George and Mary were very excited, as it would be their first opportunity to meet little Bridget.

At about the time they were expecting Philip and Katherine to arrive, a single messenger arrived instead, flushed and out of breath.

"Their graces send their deepest apologies," said the messenger. "Their carriage has broken down and so they have been delayed. They sent me ahead to inform you."

"Thank you very much," said Mary. "Thank goodness that they are all right."

Several days later, Philip, Katherine, and Bridget arrived in London at last.

"I'm ever so happy to see you again!" Mary exclaimed, hugging her daughter. "And also to finally meet your little one!"

"Go to your Grandmama, sweetheart," Katherine encouraged Bridget, gently pushing her toward Mary.

"Grandmama?" asked Bridget.

"That's right. I'm your Grandmama," Mary told the little girl, picking her up and hugging her tightly.

"Katherine!" said Emily, who was visiting with her husband and son at the same time. "It's so nice to see you again!" The look-alike sisters embraced.

"It's lovely to see you again as well," Katherine replied. "And so nice that Bridget has a playmate of about the same age." They both looked fondly at Bridget and Gregory, who regarded one another curiously.

Margery, Cecily, and Nicholas came to meet their sisters. Margery and Cecily had grown to be lovely young women. Ever since his tumble down the stairs in the House of Special Purpose, Nicholas had walked with a significant limp.

"Are you all right, Nicky?" Katherine asked her brother.

"I'm fine," Nicholas said bravely. In truth, he had survived amazingly well since the loss of Brother Christopher. Mary and George were even beginning to hope that perhaps his condition would be outgrown in time.

The family visited for awhile, and then Katherine excused herself.

"I've got a headache," she explained.

"Shall I send for the court physician?" asked Mary, frowning with concern.

"Oh, no." Katherine smiled. "I just need to lie down for a bit, and then I'll be fine."

When Katherine still hadn't reappeared a couple of hours later, Philip went to check on his wife and found her lying in bed shivering, beads of cold sweat clinging to her forehead.

"Get the court physician," she said weakly. Alarmed, Philip did as she asked.

"She has sweating sickness," the physician said gravely after examining Katherine. "There's not much I can do except to try to keep her comfortable. She's in God's hands now."

Later in the day, Margery and Cecily also fell ill and were given the same grim diagnosis.

"I couldn't bear to lose three of my children in one day," Mary sobbed as she clung to George.

"Surely God wouldn't have let us come through everything we have so far only to take them away from us," George said soothingly.

"Thank God Julia is safely in Russia," said Mary.

"Where's Mama?" little Bridget asked her father, Philip.

"Mama isn't feeling well," Philip told her. "We must pray to God that she gets better."

Gregory silently handed a toy soldier carved from wood to Bridget.

"That's his favorite toy," said Emily. "He wants to share it with his little cousin."

George, Mary, Philip, Max, Emily, and Nicholas spent the rest of that day and night in fervent prayer for the three stricken young women. The following morning, they were very relieved to learn that all three still clung to life.

The next several days were somber ones indeed at Whitehall Palace. Bridget cried and wailed for her mother. The rest of the family did their best to comfort her, but to no avail.

At last Katherine showed signs of improvement, and soon Margery and Cecily did as well. As soon as it was certain that Katherine was no longer contagious, little Bridget was brought to her.

"I missed you, Mama," Bridget mumbled as she clung tightly to her mother.

"I missed you too, sweetheart," Katherine told her, inhaling the fresh scent of Bridget's soft hair.

Philip and Katherine visited awhile longer after Katherine's recovery and then headed back to Bavaria.

"I'm so sorry that your visit was spoiled by illness," George told his daughter. "I certainly hope that your next visit will be more pleasant."

"That's all right, Papa," said Katherine, hugging both her parents good-bye. "I'm just thankful to be alive and to have had the chance to see my family again. Also, Bridget has a new friend now."

"I hope that Bridget and Gregory will always be close," said Emily.


	39. Matilda

Life in Russia proved to be very different from life in England. For one thing, the climate was much cooler, so Julia found it necessary to wear furs much of the time, except for on the warmest of days. She was so happy and so in love with Sergei that she didn't mind at all.

Sergei, for his part, simply adored Julia, showering her with gifts and taking her on long carriage rides all over the country. On one such trip they rode past miles and miles of wheat fields with peasants hard at work.

"They work so hard, while we live amongst such luxury and privilege," Julia remarked, surprised at the twinge of guilt she suddenly felt tugging at her heart.

"Does not England have hard-working peasants as well?" Sergei smiled gently.

"Of course it does," Julia replied. "I suppose I just never gave it much thought when I was younger."

"With age comes wisdom," Sergei said. "Their plight tugs at my heart as well. My brothers and I have been trying to persuade my cousin the Tsar to pass reforms to make their lives easier, but so far we've met with little success. The Tsar isn't a bad man, but he's very much a traditionalist."

Julia was flattered that Sergei was willing to discuss matters of state with her. For his part, Sergei admired both Julia's intelligent mind and her compassionate heart.

The one thing that marred Julia's bliss was the presence of the dancing girl Matilda Komarova. The way Matilda smiled at Sergei and touched his hand slightly longer than necessary when they met unsettled her.

One day not long after she and Sergei were wed, Matilda made a special point of asking Julia to take a walk with her in the palace garden. As Matilda had never said a kind word to her before, Julia was somewhat taken aback, but, despite reservations, her curiosity got the best of her, so she agreed.

At first the conversation flowed pleasantly enough. "Tell me about England," Matilda began.

"It's a lovely country," Julia told her. "It's warmer than here, but it rains a lot more often. The hills are so green and the colors of the flowers are so vibrant." Unexpectedly, Julia found herself having to swallow a lump in her throat. She hadn't realized how much she'd truly missed her homeland until that very moment.

"You miss it, don't you?" Matilda asked sympathetically. "I'll bet you miss your family as well."

"More than you could ever imagine," Julia agreed. "Sergei has promised me that if all goes well, we can visit them next year."

"What's he like?" asked Matilda.

"Why, he's very kind and generous," Julia replied. "But you already know that. After all, you've known him for longer than I have."

"No, I mean, what's he like in bed?"

"Why, I don't think that's any of your concern!" Julia blushed a deep red.

"Never mind. I'll find out for myself one day soon." Matilda shoved her face close to Julia's as she spoke menacing words. "He _shall _be mine!"

Distraught, Julia turned and rushed back to the palace with the sound of Matilda's smug laughter ringing in her ears.

"Yulia! What's wrong?" Sergei asked when he saw her.

"It's Matilda," she told him. "She pretended to be friendly and asked me to go for a walk with her. Once we were outside, she started asking personal questions, really personal ones, about...about..." Julia flushed deep red again and couldn't finish.

"Oh, I see." Sergei nodded understanding. "Well, I told you before what her intentions are, and always have been, toward me. Please believe me, Yulia, when I say that I shall never give in to them. You're the only woman I love, Yulia, and you always will be. In time, Matilda will hopefully find another man upon whom to shower all her affection. In the meantime, if she continues to harass you, I shall speak to my cousin the Tsar about having her removed from court."

Julia felt both immensely relieved and a tiny bit guilty at the same time.

"Come here, darling." Sergei held his arms out to her, and she went into them. He held her, cuddling her close to his body. "I love you, sweet Yulia. Everything's going to be just fine."

One evening, Julia was doing needlepoint when she suddenly felt violently ill. She grabbed the chamber pot just in time. She felt her stomach heave as its contents filled the chamber pot almost to overflowing. Sergei looked at her in alarm.

"I don't know what came over me," she told him. "I've felt fine all day until just now."

Sergei helped her into bed, where she lay groaning and clutching her stomach. Sergei called for the court physician, Dr. Dvorkin, who arrived and quickly examined Julia, then shook his head in bewilderment.

"Her symptoms don't fit any particular ailment that I'm familiar with," he said. "Unless..." He frowned. "What did she eat for dinner?"

"Why, the usual, of course," said Sergei.

"If any samples of her last meal remain, I'd like to examine them," said Dr. Dvorkin. "I suspect that she may have been poisoned, and if I knew the exact nature of the poison, I'd know what to use as an antidote."

"That won't be necessary, as I know exactly what was used," said Lena, one of the ladies in waiting.


	40. Heart Of Gold

As Sergei stared at Lena in shock, the young woman broke down and sobbed hysterically.

"Please don't hate me!" she begged. "I _had _to do it! Matilda told me that...that..."

"Matilda told you _what?" _Sergei roared, his eyes blazing with fury.

"She said that something bad would happen to my little boy, my Vanya, if...if I didn't cooperate..."

"If you don't tell me exactly what you've done to my wife right now, I shall deliver you unto the executioners, and you shall be dead before sunrise." Sergei advanced on Lena, his eyes like daggers.

Shaking with fear, Lena told him the name of the poison she'd used. Dr. Dvorkin obtained the antidote and administered it to Julia right away, and within moments, her symptoms eased and she was able to rest peacefully.

Furious, Sergei ordered both Matilda and Lena imprisoned immediately.

* * *

><p>Julia felt woozy as she awakened, but the pain in her stomach was completely gone. She saw Sergei sitting beside her bed, his blue eyes full of concern.<p>

"Yulia! You're awake!" he exclaimed joyfully.

"What happened?" she asked weakly.

"You ate something bad," Sergei told her. "But you're going to be all right now. Dr. Dvorkin gave you some medicine."

"But what did I eat that was bad?" she asked. She saw the emotional struggle on his face and knew that he was searching for the right words. "Please tell me the truth, Sergei. The whole truth. I can handle it."

She saw the crestfallen look on his face and felt her stomach begin to tighten in knots.

"You were poisoned, Yulia," he said flatly. "Matilda threatened to harm Lena's son if she refused to poison your food."

"My God!" Julia gasped, shocked. "I had no idea Matilda hated me enough to want me dead."

"I just thank God that Lena broke down and told me the truth before it was too late," said Sergei.

"So what will happen to them now?" asked Julia.

"They shall both be tried for attempted murder and could be sentenced to death."

"But I don't want anyone dead just because of me!" Julia exclaimed.

"Darling, they tried to kill _you," _Sergei pointed out.

"Lena herself bears me no ill will," Julia replied. "She only feared for her son's safety. I can certainly understand that."

"It's true," Sergei admitted. "Yet it does not excuse her actions. She could have told me of Matilda's threats beforehand."

"Perhaps she feared you wouldn't believe her," Julia suggested.

"It's obvious that Matilda will stop at nothing at all to get what she wants," Sergei said bitterly. "I greatly underestimated her. I knew that she was ambitious, but I had no idea that she was also without a conscience."

"But I feel fine now," Julia said. "Please tell me that you won't allow Lena to be executed because of Matilda's threats."

"My darling, you have a heart of gold," said Sergei. "If everyone's heart held as much compassion as yours does, the world would surely be a much better place. However, I can't bear the thought of those who did you such harm escaping the consequences of their actions."

"But couldn't they simply be exiled from Russia rather than put to death? That way they would be of no further danger to me, and I wouldn't have to live with knowing that they died because of me."

Sergei looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled and slowly shook his head. "My Yulia. Never have I known one with a heart as soft as yours. No wonder I love you so much." He kissed her lips, and she kissed him back with such passion that he was startled.

"I thought you were tired," he laughed.

"I've rested plenty," she replied, her fingers moving to unfasten his shirt. "Now I'm ready for some action."

Surprised but elated, Sergei lost no time in shedding his clothing and joining Julia in bed. Relief that his beloved had survived the attempt on her life with no serious harm to her health fueled his passion, and Julia responded in like manner.

Although it would be several weeks before either of them realized it, that act of love created new life deep within Julia's body.


	41. Anastasia

"So what news does Julia bring?" asked George. He and Mary were sitting together in the parlor, and Mary was perusing a recent letter from their daughter in Russia.

"We're going to be grandparents again," Mary told him.

"Really? That's great!" George exclaimed. "And it's so wonderful to see you smile again."

"I've just been so worried lately about Nicky," said Mary.

"It's going to be all right, love," said George. "He's had these spells before, and he always pulls through in the end."

"You always seem to know just what to say to cheer me up," said Mary.

George rose and went to stand behind his wife, where he began to gently massage her shoulders. "Your muscles are so stiff with stress, my dear," he said. _"I _know how to make you less stressed."

Mary smiled knowingly. Even after years of marriage, the passion they shared was still as strong as ever. George took his wife's hand and led her to their bedchambers, where he slowly undressed her, lavishing her with kisses the entire time.

"Oh, Georgie," Mary moaned as his lips moved to stimulate first one erect nipple, then the other. Her fingers gently swept through his now salt-and-pepper hair, which still fully covered his head.

George's lips began to gradually wander southward, but Mary gently cupped his chin in her hands. "Not yet," she whispered softly as her fingers moved to release his fully erect member from his hose.

"Oh, Mary," he sighed as her lips encircled it and her tongue began to work its magic.

"You do so know how to make me happy," he continued. Within moments Mary could tell by the sounds he was making that he was close, and she lay back on the bed and parted her legs. Instantly George was right there, using his lips, tongue, and fingers to bring her over the edge in almost no time. Right away he entered her, his own climax happening within moments. Afterwards they lay in one another's arms as their breathing slowly returned to normal.

"Despite what I know to be true, after being with you like this, I just can't help but feel that everything will be all right," Mary said after awhile.

"Everything _will _be all right," George told her. "Nicky is in God's hands, and our heavenly Father will see that no serious harm befalls him."

"I love you so much, Georgie," said Mary.

"I love you too, sweet Mary," said George. "Try to get some rest now. Everything's going to be fine."

* * *

><p>"What is it, darling?" asked Julia. Sergei looked more distraught than she'd ever seen him.<p>

"It's my sister, Anastasia." Sergei's voice was almost a sob. "She's lost the child she was carrying and continues to bleed very heavily. I fear that...the angels may take her home soon."

"Oh, Sergei, I'm so sorry!" Julia rushed to her husband and embraced him, and he clung to her for comfort, burying his face in her hair.

"We must go to see her while there is still time!" Sergei exclaimed.

Julia was shocked at the sight of Anastasia lying so still in bed. Never had she seen anyone looking so pale and weak. Her heart went out to the young woman, and to Anastasia's husband Ivan, who sat beside her bed sobbing uncontrollably.

"My sister!" Sergei exclaimed, embracing her.

"My dear Sergei." Anastasia's voice was very weak as she clung to her brother. "It was so good of you to come. And your lovely wife, Yulia!" She turned to Julia, whose belly was still only slightly swollen.

"I wish you the best, dear Yulia. I hope that your baby is strong and healthy, and...and..." She paused to catch her breath. "And that he or she inherits Sergei's kind heart and loving ways."

"Oh, Anastasia!" Julia was crying now as well as she embraced her sister-in-law.

With breaking hearts, Sergei and Julia said good-bye to Anastasia for the last time.

The day of the funeral was rainy and dreary. Before the casket was lowered into the ground, Ivan threw himself on top of it and clung to it, weeping copiously. Several people had to gently pull him off for the burial to proceed.

"He has a very fragile mind," Sergei told Julia. "I greatly fear that this has proven too much for him and may cause it to snap."

"Oh, I hope not!" Julia exclaimed. As if to echo her own emotions, the babe inside her wiggled and kicked as never before.

* * *

><p>Julia was sitting in the parlor doing needlework and talking with Sergei when her water broke, flooding the floor.<p>

"I think it's time," she said nervously.

Sergei's eyes widened in alarm at the sight of the gush of water from between his wife's legs. Quickly he whisked her to their bedchambers and helped her to lie down.

"I'll fetch the midwife right away," he told her.

"Please don't leave me!" Julia cried, clinging to him. "I'm so scared!"

"But I must find the midwife," Sergei said. "Obviously I cannot deliver our child myself. You're a brave girl, Yulia. If not for your courage, we never would have even wed. You're going to be just fine, my love. I know you will."

Calmed by his words, Julia lay back on the bed and tried to relax. The contractions were relatively mild at first, but as the evening progressed, they grew stronger and stronger. By midnight she was in agony.

"Somebody please, help me!" she cried. "I can't bear this anymore!"

The midwife examined her. "The baby is in an awkward position," she said. "I'll have to turn it."

She did so, and after only a few more pushes, Julia heard the healthy wail of the newborn and felt joy surge through her.

"It's a girl!" the midwife exclaimed. Julia's joy was now tinged with mild anxiety. A girl! What would Sergei say?

Suddenly he was there, grinning from ear to ear. "You did very well, my love." Julia noticed that there were tears in his eyes and smiled back a bit bashfully.

"Anastasia," Sergei whispered, lightly touching his newborn daughter's face. Julia agreed that it was the perfect name for her.


	42. Agnes

_A/N_:_ Thanks to Mimi Dubois for the information about the Medici Pope. This chapter contains some 'M' rated material, so if that would bother you, you'd best skip it. Otherwise, enjoy! :)_

"It looks to me as if our best options are going to be Giovanni de' Medici of Italy and Louis of Valois," said Mary.

"Both are good choices," George replied. "Both are closely related to the Pope and thus will strengthen our ties to the Vatican."

"Louis is a few years younger," Mary mused. "I'm not sure that he would be settled enough yet to make a proper husband."

"Let's write to Giovanni's family first, and if they aren't agreeable to a match, we'll contact Louis' family in France," George ventured.

"Brilliant suggestion as always, my love." Mary smiled at her husband.

"Whatever in the world would you do without me?" George teased, kissing his wife's cheek.

Their third daughter, Margery, who'd been eavesdropping just outside the room they were in, turned and stalked away with a scowl on her face. Caught up in her own thoughts, she nearly collided with Agnes, one of her mother's ladies in waiting who was walking in the opposite direction.

"Sorry," Margery mumbled.

"What's wrong, Margery?" asked Agnes. The two girls were very close in age, and although they were on friendly terms, they didn't know each other all that well.

"Papa and Mama are arranging my marriage!" Margery exploded. "They want to wed me to some Italian named Giovanni whom I've never even met!"

"Well, he must be a decent and honorable young man for your parents to even consider him as a husband for you," Agnes replied consolingly. "I know they want only the best for their children."

"That may be true, but who says I even _want _to get married right now?" Margery protested. "Just because both my older sisters were married at my age doesn't mean that I must be as well! And besides, Julia got to choose her own husband! Why shouldn't I be able to choose my own also?"

"You may fall madly in love with Prince Giovanni the moment you lay eyes on him. Who knows?" Agnes said lightly.

"Or I may not," Margery said glumly. "You know what, Agnes? I know the basic nature of intimate relations between a man and woman, of course, and that such shall be expected of me on my wedding night, but somehow the idea of it repulses me. Does that mean that there's something wrong with me?"

"I don't think so." Agnes' eyes twinkled mischievously. "Perhaps it simply means that you'd prefer to experience such relations with another woman instead."

Margery gasped, shocked. She'd heard of such matings but had always considered them to be unnatural, perverted, abominable. Blasphemous, even. Yet before she could open her mouth to protest, Agnes had taken her hand and was leading her to an empty bedchamber. Curiosity overcoming hesitation, Margery followed eagerly.

As soon as they were alone, Agnes began to Kiss Margery's lips passionately. Margery returned her fervor as she felt an unfamiliar warmth tingling in her spine and radiating outward. Before she realized it, Agnes' hands were on her breasts, stroking them through her clothing.

"Agnes, no!" Margery gasped, pulling away.

"Don't be afraid," said Agnes. "You're enjoying it, aren't you?"

"Well, yes, but..." Agnes' mouth was covering her own again, and this time she didn't protest as Agnes' fingers deftly unfastened her dress and let it fall.

Margery groaned as Agnes' talented fingers gently squeezed her erect nipples. "Oh!" she gasped as Agnes replaced her fingers with her mouth.

"Do you want me to do that to you too?" Margery asked after awhile. Agnes nodded, and Margery helped her out of her dress. Confronted with the sight of the other girl's pale pink peaks, she began to massage them clumsily.

"Am I doing this right?" she asked. Agnes nodded and moaned. Margery took one nipple into her mouth, and Agnes' moaning increased. Agnes' hands were now in between Margery's legs, her every touch feeling like a tiny jolt of electricity.

"Lie back on the bed," Agnes whispered breathlessly after awhile. Margery did so, and Agnes removed her underclothing.

Suddenly Margery bolted upright in fear. "My maidenhead!" she exclaimed. "I must save it for my wedding night!"

Agnes smiled reassuringly. "I promise you, Margery, I shall not touch your maidenhead. It will remain intact."

Margery lay back down, and Agnes parted her legs and began to gently fondle, then lick and suckle, her most intimate parts. The sensation was like nothing Margery had ever experienced before, the pleasure so exquisite that she thought she'd surely swoon. It was some moments before she felt like herself again, her heart still pounding madly as she looked up into Agnes' grinning face.

"I wish you could have seen your expression just then," Agnes laughed.

"Would you...would you like for me to do that to you too?" Margery stammered.

"Please do," Agnes replied, quickly shedding her underclothing and lying back in the spot Margery had just vacated.

As she peered at the folds of skin between Agnes' legs, Margery smelled a strongly musky but not unpleasant aroma. She used her fingers to separate the folds of skin, which were surprisingly moist, and gingerly touched the tiny nub of skin there with the tip of her tongue.

"Oh, _yes," _Agnes moaned encouragingly, and Margery did her best to emulate what Agnes had just done to her until the other girl was quivering and telling her that that was enough.

Suddenly guilty and afraid, Margery quickly dressed and hurried back to her own quarters, feeling as if a hungry bear were right at her heels.


	43. Giovanni

Margery lay on her back in bed listening to her heart pound. She simply couldn't believe what she'd just done. Frightened and filled with dread, she felt that she didn't really know herself at all, that a stranger dwelt within her body.

Would anyone else be able to tell just by looking at her what she'd just done? God knew, of course. Did He hate her now for committing such an unnatural act? Would she ever be able to look her mother and father in the eye again?

One thing she knew for sure was that it was absolutely imperative that she act as normally as possible. No one must be able to tell that there was anything different about her at all. If anyone were to find out, what would the consequences be? She shuddered just to think of it.

She was summoned for dinner and went to join her family as usual. She pasted a happy smile onto her face as she took her seat.

"Margery sure looks happy this evening," George commented.

"Maybe she's thinking about her future husband," Cecily giggled.

"Whatever would give you that idea?" Margery asked innocently.

"Well, you will be wed soon, I'm sure," Cecily replied. "After all, Katherine and Julia were at your age."

"I hope Margery doesn't get married for a long time," said Nicholas. "Even though Katherine and Julia have both been gone for awhile, I still miss them very much. I hate it when people marry and go away. I wish we could all just stay together forever like other families do."

"Unfortunately, son, that's the way it is when you're the heir to the throne and you're the only boy with four sisters," George told him. "One day all four of your sisters will be living in other countries, but your wife will move to England to live with you, and she'll have to leave her own family to do that."

"Perhaps I'll marry an English woman, so that she won't have to move too far away from her family," Nicholas said thoughtfully. "After all, four of Grandfather's wives were English. Only Grandmother and Anne of Cleves came from other countries."

George and Mary looked at one another and didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned," Margery said as she sat in the confessional. "I..." <em>I lay with a woman as with a man. <em>She knew the words she must say, but they simply wouldn't come out. "I...have been lax in studying the Bible as I should."

"Remember your duties to the Lord, my child," said the priest. "Two Hail Marys."

For the very first time in her life, Margery left the confessional with non confessed sin in her heart. If she were to die without ever confessing it, would she ever be allowed entrance into heaven? She wracked her brain for instances of Biblical characters or past saints who'd been guilty of similar transgressions but couldn't think of a single one.

Several weeks later, Margery's cousin, Henry Carey, escorted her to Italy to marry Giovanni de' Medici. To her relief, he was not only nice looking but gentle and courteous as well.

"Welcome to my lovely country, Margery of England," he greeted her as he kissed her hand. "I hope that you will be happy here."

"It's very beautiful," said Margery. "And there's so much history. I can't wait to see the Colosseum, the bath houses..."

Giovanni chuckled. "Plenty of time for all that. I'm looking forward to getting to know you first." Gently he brushed her hair back with his fingers, and Margery felt a pleasant warmth deep inside, a feeling completely unlike any she'd ever felt before. Rather than dreading what was to come that night, she found that, to her amazement, she actually looked forward to it. Whereas passion alone had fueled her interaction with Agnes, with Giovanni, she felt an emotional connection that she'd never experienced with anyone else before.

When her new husband entered her that night, Margery felt the expected pain, and to her tremendous relief, she also saw blood on the sheet the following morning. So Agnes had been right, and her maidenhead had remained intact. Did that mean that she had indeed still been a maid on her wedding night, after all? She desperately hoped so.

* * *

><p>Despite her idyllic life with her new husband in Italy, the fact that she had yet to tell anyone at all, even a priest, of her encounter with Agnes, weighed heavily on Margery's mind. At times she felt as if she'd simply burst if she didn't confess to someone.<p>

After weeks of soul searching, she finally decided to write to her sister Julia in Russia and tell her what had happened. As Julia was closer to her own age, she'd always felt closer to Julia than to Katherine. After writing the letter, she felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and as she waited anxiously for her sister's response, she hoped that it would be understanding rather than condemning.


	44. Giovanni's Confession

Giovanni and Margery had been married only a short time when Giovanni made a suggestion that took his wife completely by surprise. It happened during a moment of passion.

"Margery, I don't quite know how to ask you this," Giovanni said awkwardly. "But if you would take my organ into your mouth and suckle upon it, I would enjoy that very much."

Margery gasped, shocked.

"I know that it seems a strange request, and of course you don't have to if you don't want to," Giovanni continued. "But..." He looked uncertain about whether or not he should continue. "I have experienced it before, and it gave me great pleasure."

"You..._what?" _Margery couldn't believe her ears.

Giovanni sighed. "I didn't want to say anything about it before, as I was afraid it would hurt you, but before we were promised to one another, I knew a girl named Francesca. She was beautiful. I knew that since she was a commoner, I could never marry her, but I thought about her all the time. I simply couldn't get her out of my mind. One day she smiled at me, and it was as if I was walking on clouds for the rest of the day. A few days later, she pulled me aside and told me that she knew how to make me feel good. Before I could say a thing, she had unfastened my pants, freed my organ from my hose, and slipped it into my mouth. Oh, the ecstasy!"

Giovanni smiled fondly at the memory. Margery felt as if a huge weight had just been lifted from her shoulders.

"I hope that what I've told you hasn't hurt you." Giovanni's eyes were tender with concern.

"Oh, no, not at all," Margery quickly assured him. "You see, I...I once yielded to temptation as well." Suddenly she found herself telling her husband the entire story of her tryst with Agnes.

Giovanni listened with a shocked expression on his face. Finally he chuckled. "So we both tasted forbidden fruit before we were wed, then."

Margery nodded glumly.

"No matter. The Bible says that if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness."

"But did you confess to the priest?"

"Of course I did!"

"And what happened?"

"He told me my penance, and that was it."

"I feel so much better now!"

"I'm glad." Giovanni began to kiss his wife, and desire was soon reignited in them both. Margery did as her husband had requested and found it surprisingly enjoyable. At her request he returned the favor, and she was over the moon once more.

* * *

><p>Soon afterwards, Margery received a response from her sister Julia in Russia. Julia told her basically the same thing Giovanni had, that if she confessed her sin to God that she would be forgiven. Julia also shared her experience with Matilda and the poisoning incident. She'd been reluctant to tell their parents of the occurrence, as she worried about upsetting them. She knew that they were already concerned enough simply by the fact that she lived so far away from England now.<p>

Within a few months, Margery learned that she was with child. She and Giovanni were overjoyed, and when their daughter was born, she was named Maria for her grandmother.

Less than a year after Maria's birth, Margery discovered that she was with child once again.

"I hope that I shall give you an heir this time," she told her husband.

"I shall love it just the same, regardless," Giovanni replied generously.

Late in her pregnancy, it occurred to Margery with a start that she hadn't felt the child inside her body move for a couple of days.

"I certainly hope that everything is all right," she said to Giovanni.

"You worry too much," he replied with a smile. "I'm sure everything is fine. As you recall, Maria moved less in her final days in your womb as well."

"You're right," Margery recalled. "I'm so glad you reminded me of that. Now I feel much better."

Margery went into labor later that same day. She labored throughout the night, and in the wee hours of the morning, she was finally ready to give birth. She pushed and pushed for what seemed like a very long time, and at last the child slid from her body, but instead of almost immediately beginning to wail and changing from blue to pink as Maria had, she remained blue and still.

"The cord was wrapped around her neck three times," the midwife said sadly. "There's nothing I can do. I'm so very sorry."


	45. Joys And Sorrows

Margery rolled into a ball and sobbed, brokenhearted. Vaguely she was aware of Giovanni taking her into his arms and holding her, comforting her.

"I'm so sorry!" she gasped, fearing that he would blame her for the loss of their child.

"It was God's will," Giovanni said sorrowfully. "It's not our place to question it."

"Are you not angry at me, then?"

"Of course not! Why should I be?"

"But what if I am not ever able to give you a healthy heir?" Margery remembered being told of the abandonment of her grandmother, Katherine of Aragon, by her grandfather, King Henry VIII, after six pregnancies had resulted in but one living daughter.

"I'm sure that you will in time, my love," Giovanni said consolingly. "And even if you don't, I shall always love you and never want any other woman but you."

* * *

><p>While Giovanni and Margery grieved the loss of their daughter in Italy, Sergei and Julia rejoiced at the birth of a healthy son in Russia.<p>

"I want to name him Georgiy, in honor of my father," Julia told her husband.

"That's fine with me," Sergei replied. "He does favor you."

"I'm glad." Julia laughed. "Nastya has always looked so much like you." Julia felt a slight pang at the mention of her daughter's name. She hadn't seen Anastasia since before the birth of her son and already missed the little girl.

Sergei left the room and returned a moment later holding his daughter. Anastasia was a beautiful little girl, with curly light brown hair and clear blue eyes.

"This is your baby brother," Sergei told the little girl. "His name is Georgiy."

"Can I hold him?" asked Anastasia.

"If you're very, very careful." Sergei sat his daughter on the side of the bed, and Julia very carefully placed the infant into her arms.

"He likes me!" Anastasia exclaimed with a grin.

"Of course he does," said Sergei. "You're his big sister!"

* * *

><p>"We've a matter of some importance to discuss," Mary said to her husband.<p>

"Oh, dear." George sighed. "What have I done now?"

Mary laughed at his fake contrition. "It's simply that the time has come to search for a husband for Cecily."

"She is about the appropriate age now, isn't she?" George agreed. "I can't believe how quickly she's grown up!"

Mary smiled. She knew that George was reluctant to contemplate the departure of his youngest daughter from England.

"As you recall, we discussed Louis of Valois as a possible husband for Cecily," Mary continued.

"You were afraid that he might be too young and unsettled," George reminded his wife.

"I daresay that I imagine he's matured considerably over the past couple of years," said Mary. "Enough so that he'd be perfect as a husband for Cecily."

"If you're certain that you think it would be best, then by all means, ask after him," George said easily.

* * *

><p>A light drizzle, typical for England, fell on the day Henry Carey was to escort his cousin Cecily to France to marry Louis of Valois, but the overall mood was festive. Cecily had heard wonderful things about the French court from her half sister Emily and couldn't wait to meet Louis and his family.<p>

"Oh, Mama, I'm so happy!" she exclaimed as she hugged her mother farewell.

"I wish you only the best, darling," Mary replied.

"I'm going to be ever so lonely now with all my sisters gone," Nicholas said as Cecily hugged him. "And I'm going to miss you most of all." As Cecily was the sister who was closest to Nicholas' age, the two of them had always been very close.

"I'll visit as often as I can, and you still have the Dudleys," Cecily replied. Rachel, Robert, Lydia, and Andrew Dudley, the children of Robert and Elizabeth, lived nearby and visited the royal family often.

"But they're not the same!" Nicholas protested.

"Well, you wouldn't want me to just live here forever and be an old maid, would you?" Cecily asked her brother with a smile.

"Well, no, I suppose not," Nicholas conceded.

"Look on the bright side," Mary said to her son. "Now you have the undivided attention of your father and me. Isn't that right, George?"

George didn't respond.

"George?" A hint of worry crept into Mary's voice as she looked at her husband. George just stared straight ahead, totally oblivious to everything around him. A thin trickle of drool ran from one corner of his mouth.


	46. Reliving Old Memories

"Your husband has suffered an attack of apoplexy," the court physician told the Queen. "At this point it's impossible to tell how much, if any, normal function he'll recover. All we can do is wait and see."

Mary sobbed as she sat at her husband's bedside. His eyes were open, but they just stared blankly into space. The George she'd known and loved for a quarter of a century simply wasn't there anymore. Would he ever return?

On George's other side sat fifteen-year-old Prince Nicholas, the heir to the throne. His blue eyes were wide with fear, tears coursing slowly down his cheeks. He was tall for his age, but thin and very pale. The bleeding episodes seemed to come less frequently now, but were just as severe when they did occur.

Mary clutched her rosary and said prayer after prayer beseeching God to spare her husband's life, as George lay in bed totally unresponsive day after day.

Feeding him was very difficult, as most of the food simply trickled right back out the sides of his mouth, and he swallowed very little of it. He seemed to grow thinner day by day. Caring for his personal hygiene needs was a real challenge as well, as he was unable to offer any assistance at all.

Mary nursed her husband almost entirely by herself, only occasionally enlisting the aid of others and sleeping on a pallet beside his bed every night. She entrusted regents with the performance of her administrative duties.

One morning she was awakened by a strange moaning sound coming from George. When she checked on him, she saw that his eyes were focused on her and that he was attempting to speak. "Maa...maa..."

She realized that he was trying to say her name. "I'm right here, sweetheart," she told him.

"Whaa..." He struggled to get the word out. Mary noticed that only one side of his mouth was moving.

"The physician said that you suffered an attack of apoplexy," Mary told him. "I prayed to God, and He has answered my prayer and returned you to me."

Katherine, Emily, Margery, and the newlywed Cecily had all been notified of their father's condition and had returned to England to be at his side. Julia had been told as well, of course, although she lived too far away to make the journey. Mary stepped outside the bedroom to find Cecily sobbing in the arms of her older sister Katherine.

"Your father is awake at last," Mary told her daughters. "You may go in and see him now."

George's face lit up at the sight of each of the young women, but after greeting them he looked confused. "Ju...ju..."

"Julia's in Russia with her husband and family, but she sends her love as well," Mary told him.

George's right hand reached for her, and she clasped it, kissing it tenderly.

* * *

><p>George got stronger and stronger with each passing day, although it soon became obvious that he was unable to move the left side of his body. His speech also improved, although it was still quite slurred due to his inability to use one side of his mouth.<p>

"I'm so very pleased at the progress you've made," Mary told him.

"There is one thing that saddens me greatly," George replied. "I fear that I may never be able to make love to you again."

"Even if that proves to be the case, I shall never love you any less," Mary replied. "As you know, there are alternative ways of giving me pleasure and showing your love for me."

"Ah, yes. So there are." George gave her a devilish grin.

She needed no further encouragement. Off came her dress, followed by her underclothing. She straddled his face, and he used his right hand to fondle each breast in turn while his lips and tongue gave her pleasure. She was over the edge in no time.

"Thank you so much, darling," she told him as she cuddled with him afterwards. "I really needed that. I only wish that I could return the favor."

"That's all right," George told her. "I have enough happy memories to last the rest of my life."

* * *

><p>As George regained some use of his left side, he slowly learned to walk again with the assistance of a cane by pulling his left leg even with his right in kind of an awkward shuffle.<p>

"He'll probably always require the assistance of the cane," the physician told Mary.

"I'm just thrilled to see him able to get about again," Mary replied.

George soon became depressed about having to stay indoors all the time.

"I really miss those walks in the garden we used to take when we were younger," he said to Mary. "Don't you remember? It was right after we were first wed, if not earlier, even. We used to see how many of the different flowers and insects we could name. You knew most of the ones I didn't, and I knew most of the ones you didn't, so between the two of us, we could name almost all of them."

"Of course I remember, and I miss it as well," Mary replied. "But as you know, the ground is uneven in some places, and I fear you might fall."

One day soon afterwards, the sun shone so brilliantly, and George looked at Mary with such pleading in his eyes, that at last she agreed to accompany him on a short walk outdoors.

As they strolled along, Mary felt a pleasant sense of nostalgia.

"Do you remember the first picnic I ever took you on?" asked George.

"Very well," said Mary. "I had a splinter in my finger, and you removed it for me."

"It was at Hatfield." George's eyes glazed over fondly. "Bess was hardly more than a baby."

"And now she's married with four children of her own!" Mary smiled. She'd long since forgiven her sister for marrying a Protestant.

"I think I loved you from the moment I first saw you," George murmured. Right at that moment, his shoe tripped over a tangle of vines covering the earth.


	47. Recovery

Mary saw her husband stumble and quickly grabbed his arm, just in time to keep him from toppling over.

"Are you all right, my love?" she asked anxiously.

"I believe so," he told her. "Although we'd best be headed back inside now. I've had quite enough excitement in one day for a man in my condition." He chuckled, and Mary smiled weakly. She helped him back into the palace, where he rested for the remainder of the day.

* * *

><p>Margery fell into a deep depression following the delivery of her stillborn daughter. For days all she wanted to do was to sit beside the tiny grave and cry. She stopped eating and became thinner and thinner.<p>

One day she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned to look into Giovanni's soft brown eyes.

"It's a bit chilly out today," he said. "Wouldn't you like to come inside and sit beside the fire?"

"I want to make sure that she knows that she isn't forgotten," Margery told her husband.

"She knows," Giovanni assured her. "Right now she's probably laughing and playing with the other babes in heaven."

"She never even got to take her first breath," Margery said mournfully.

"In the arms of our Lord and Savior above, she is healthy and whole." Giovanni's voice was warm, comforting. "She wouldn't want you to continue to mourn for her. She'd want you to be happy."

By now they were inside and were sitting beside the fireplace. Giovanni wrapped a blanket around his wife and brought her a hot drink.

"I know that you're right," Margery told her husband as he sat beside her and pulled her to himself. "I just can't help but remember what Maria was doing at the age she'd be now, what she herself would be doing had she lived."

"There's no point in dwelling on that," said Giovanni. "The past is the past. We must let it be, and look forward to whatever the future holds. And whatever it does hold, I want to spend it loving you."

He began to kiss her, and she felt desire well up inside her for the first time since her loss. She felt him lift her and gently lay her down on a soft rug in front of the fireplace, felt him begin to remove her clothing. She reached for his doublet, her fingers deftly unfastening the buttons until finally he helped her remove it.

Through his clothing she felt the evidence of his arousal. Slowly she removed first his breeches, then his hose. Her fingers softly caressed his rock hard member as his moved sensually over and between the slick folds of skin surrounding her opening. As soon as he was sure she was ready, he entered her, and they made love for the first time in months.

* * *

><p>Within a few weeks, Margery found that she was experiencing the symptoms of pregnancy once again. At first she was afraid to get her hopes up, but as time passed and everything seemed to be going well, she began to look forward to the approaching birth. As her pregnancy neared its end, however, she became troubled.<p>

"Everything seemed perfectly normal up until the end the last time, too," she reminded Giovanni.

"This time will be different," Giovanni replied. "I know that God will have mercy on us and allow our child to be born healthy this time."

At last the day Margery went into labor arrived. "Please don't leave me," she begged her husband.

"I won't," Giovanni promised.

"It isn't done." The midwife frowned darkly.

"Please," Margery begged.

"Just don't get in my way," the midwife said to Giovanni.

A few hours later, it was time for the baby to come. Margery pushed and pushed, and at last, with Giovanni holding her hand, she gave birth to their son, who immediately let out a healthy wail.

"Oh, my baby!" Margery cried. Giovanni laughed happily as he laid the baby in her arms.

"I told you everything would be all right this time," he said.

"What shall we name him?" asked Margery.

"How about Benito?" Giovanni suggested. "It means 'blessed'."

"That's a nice name," Margery agreed.

Two years later, Benito was joined by a younger brother, Alessandro.


	48. Nicholas And Alexandra Part One

Alexandra, one of the younger daughters of Philip I, Landgrave of Hesse, was preparing to travel to England for the marriage of her older sister, Elizabeth, to Henry Carey, George's nephew and cousin to the royal children. Alexandra had never been to England before and looked forward to her upcoming visit.

For days the young girl and her family journeyed toward the British Isles, finally crossing the English Channel and arriving in London a few hours later. They stayed temporarily in one of the royal estates until the day of the wedding.

As the bride's family found their places on one side of the huge cathedral, Alexandra looked across to the other side and saw the royal family, including the Queen herself and the Prince Consort. With them was a young boy who nearly took her breath away. Was this Prince Nicholas, heir to the throne of England? Alexandra couldn't wait to find out and fervently hoped that she would have a chance to say hello to him personally before she had to return to Germany with her family.

At last the ceremony ended and the reception began. Alexandra stood shyly beside a table which held a platter of little sandwiches, feeling completely lost. She didn't see a soul that she knew and felt anxious at the thought of approaching a stranger.

"Would you like something to drink?" asked a friendly voice at her elbow. Startled, she turned to see none other than the dashing young lad who'd caught her attention earlier.

"Wh-why yes, that would be nice," she stammered. "Thank you."

"I'm Nicholas." His white teeth shone brilliantly as he smiled. "But most people call me Nicky."

"I'm Alexandra." Her heart pounded madly. She simply couldn't believe that she was actually talking to Prince Nicholas, heir to the English throne, himself. "Elizabeth is my older sister."

"It's lovely to meet you, Alexandra," Nicholas said politely.

"It's wonderful to meet you as well, and to see your beautiful country," Alexandra replied.

"I'd love to show you more of it," Nicholas told her. "Please say you'll join me in a carriage ride this afternoon."

"I'd love to!" Alexandra exclaimed.

Later, as the carriage traveled a well-worn path through the grass, Alexandra found that she couldn't take her eyes off the lush greenery of the English countryside, not even to look into the clear blue eyes of her handsome companion.

At last they arrived at a hilly grove with wildflowers and a large tree.

"My sisters and I used to play here often when we were little," Nicholas told Alexandra.

"It's gorgeous," said Alexandra. "I know that you must miss them, now that they're all married and living in foreign countries."

"I do, very much," Nicholas replied. "Especially Cecily. She saved all our lives, once."

"She did?"

"It was during the revolution, when we had to flee to East Anglia," Nicholas told her. "The men who were keeping us prisoner plotted to kill us all. Cecily overheard their plans and told our father, and we were able to escape in time."

"That must have been ever so frightening!" Alexandra gasped.

"I've never been more scared in my life," said Nicholas. They were now standing right beside the tree, which had a low-hanging, wide branch. Nicholas helped Alexandra to climb onto the branch and then joined her.

"Your ring is beautiful," he told her.

Alexandra glanced down at her hand, which was lying on her thigh. "It was a gift from my grandmother. Would you like to see it?"

She slipped the ring off her finger and handed it to Nicholas. He grinned mischievously at her and scratched something into the tree's trunk, then handed it back to her.

She saw that he had carved his name into the trunk.

"Now you," he said, his eyes twinkling.

She giggled self-consciously, then took the ring and carved her name underneath Nicholas'. He took the ring back and used it to carve a heart shape around both their names.

* * *

><p>"Joanna of Austria, daughter of Ferdinand I, Holy Roman Emperor and King of Bohemia, Hungary, and Croatia," Mary said to her husband.<p>

"Quite an impressive list of titles there," George commented. "What about her?"

"I intend to secure her hand in marriage for our Nicky," Mary told him.

George frowned. "But shouldn't Nicky have a say in the matter?"

"With such a powerful and influential father, how could he possibly refuse?" Mary replied.


	49. Nicholas And Alexandra Part Two

"I would rather join a monastery than marry her!" Nicholas declared as he stalked away.

"But why, Nicky?" Mary asked her son. "As you can see by his list of credentials, her father is one of the most powerful men in Europe."

"I don't find her portrait to be attractive at all," Nicholas said stiffly. "Besides, there is another whom I love."

"Who, pray tell?"

"Alexandra of Hesse," Nicholas replied.

"But son, Alexandra's father is such a minor aristocrat," Mary protested.

"Nevertheless, she is the woman I love, and if I cannot marry her, I shall take a vow of celibacy," Nicholas retorted. Mary's eyes blazed, but her son's gaze remained steady. George looked on sympathetically.

"He seems quite determined," he said to Mary after their son had left the room.

"I'll not have my son, my heir, married to the daughter of the duke of some minor state!" Mary exclaimed.

"You yourself married a mere viscount," George reminded her.

"Yes...but that was different. My father was still alive at the time and determined to sire a male heir. I had no idea that I would one day be Queen."

George chuckled slightly. Mary glared at him.

* * *

><p>Alone in his chambers, Nicholas felt like sobbing. To him, it seemed as though he had briefly touched happiness, as if his fingers had lightly brushed its edge, only to have it cruelly snatched away. He sat at his desk with a pen and paper and began to write.<p>

_My dearest Alexandra,_

_I write to you with the heaviest of hearts. My mother, the Queen, has her heart set on my marrying Joanna of Tuscany, a proposition which brings me great pain, as I love you, and only you. Since first I met you, I have longed to have you as my bride. Oh, darling, how I miss you! My arms ache to hold you, my lips to kiss you. Oh, I am a lonely man indeed! My heart is full of woe at the thought of never seeing your sweet face again. May it please the Lord above to grant me the great joy of being united with you in wedded bliss._

_Your humble admirer,_

_Nicholas_

Nicholas fetched a messenger to deliver his missive, hoping that its recipient would express similar sentiments toward him.

* * *

><p>As Nicholas pined for his absent love, the Queen sent a message to Ferdinand I inquiring as to the availability of his daughter Joanna. Ferdinand's response was to send Joanna, laden with presents and servants, to England. Mary watched her arrival with excitement and joy.<p>

"Oh, George, she's here!" she exclaimed.

"So I see." George's voice was subdued.

"You sure don't sound very happy about it."

"Nicky doesn't want to marry Joanna, Mary. He loves Alexandra."

"Nicky's in love with love. He's young and doesn't know what he wants."

George sighed heavily. "I'll let him know she's here," he said weakly.

Feeling more miserable than he ever had before in his life, Nicholas reluctantly went to meet Joanna, who beamed when she saw him.

"I must be honest with you," Nicholas told Joanna. "My heart belongs to another."

Joanna's eyes filled with tears. "But surely you could learn to love me!" she exclaimed.

Nicholas just looked at her sadly. He hated to see the pain in the young woman's eyes, but he knew that he couldn't lie to her.

"But what shall I do?" Joanna asked plaintively. "I have traveled all the way from my home with the expectation of becoming the wife of England's next King."

"I don't know!" Nicholas wailed.

That night, a letter for Nicholas arrived from Alexandra in Hesse.

_My dearest Nicky,_

_It is with a mixture of joy and sorrow that I received your sweet letter, joy to know that your love for me is constant and pure, as is mine for you, yet sorrow that it appears as if fate has declared that we cannot be together. I beseech you, my love, to harken to the wishes of your mother, the Queen. She only desires what is best for you, and loath I would be to stand in the way of your future welfare. Above all, place your trust in God, knowing that His blessed will shall prevail, and that if He desires for us to be together, then it shall be so._

_Ever your loving friend and confidant,_

_Alexandra_

Nicholas carefully refolded the letter and put it away, then wept.


	50. Unexpected Change Of Plans

"I just can't do it, Papa!" Nicholas' face was twisted in agony as he pleaded with George. "I can't stand at the front of that church and vow to forsake all others and cling only to Joanna when my heart belongs to Alexandra!"

"I don't know how to advise you." George shrugged helplessly. "All the preparations have been made, and the wedding is set to take place tomorrow."

"But there must be some way..." Near tears, Nicholas paced back and forth like a caged animal.

George looked at his son with deep pity in his eyes. "I truly wish that something could be done."

Wracked with misery, Nicholas prepared for bed on what he believed to be his last night as a single man. Little did he suspect that an event during the night would change everything.

Mary was beside herself with panic the following morning. "I can't rouse your father," she told Nicholas. "The court physician must be sent for right away!"

Nicholas could feel his heart pounding in his throat as he and his mother anxiously awaited the arrival of the physician. The doctor quickly examined George and shook his head grimly.

"He's suffered a second attack of apoplexy, one even more severe than the first," he announced. "It will truly be a miracle if he survives this one."

Needless to say, the wedding was postponed indefinitely. Joanna and her entourage were given temporary lodging in Whitehall Palace. The young woman tried several times to engage Nicholas in conversation, but he was so distraught over his father's condition that he failed to make any kind of connection with her at all.

Mary rejoiced when Nicholas finally regained consciousness again.

"Mary, my love." He was barely able to speak. "The marriage of our Nicky to Joanna of Tuscany must not proceed."

"But the plans have already been made..." Mary began to protest, but George shook his head.

"Then they must be unmade. Send Joanna home, darling, and send for Alexandra in Hesse. She's the one he's to marry."

"Very well," Mary conceded. "If that is what you desire, then that is what shall be."

* * *

><p>George quickly slipped into a coma, one that the physician said he would probably never awaken from.<p>

Mary flew into action right away, sending Joanna with all the gifts and servants back home and requesting that Alexandra be brought to England right away.

Alexandra's heart leaped with joy when she saw her beloved awaiting her arrival, but her elation quickly changed to puzzlement when she saw the woebegone expression on his face.

"Papa is dying!" Nicholas cried, unable to hide his grief.

"Oh, no!" Alexandra exclaimed. "My poor Nicky!" She held him as he sobbed on her shoulder.

George quietly slipped away that night, and preparations were immediately begun for a lavish state funeral. Mary was beside herself with grief, and Nicholas, although greatly comforted by the presence of his beloved, was deeply crushed as well.

The body lay in state until all George's daughters except Julia could travel to England. Far away in Russia, Julia would have to be content with sending her love and prayers.

Accompanying her daughter Katherine and son-in-law Philip from Bavaria was a man Mary hadn't laid eyes on in well over twenty years.

"Philip!" she cried, rushing to embrace him. Except for the fact that his head and beard now contained some white hairs, he looked much the same as he had the last time she'd seen him.

"My sweet Mary." He embraced her tenderly. "I wish to offer you my condolences in your time of sorrow."

"Why didn't your wife accompany you?" Mary asked.

"I lost my Brigitte several years ago," Philip told her. "She had a tumor in her breast."

"I'm sorry," said Mary.

"It is wonderful to see the lovely green fields of England again, although I am sorry for the circumstances that brought me here," said Philip. He took her arm, and they began to walk inside.

"This is my son Nicholas, the heir to the English throne," Mary told Philip. "And this is his beloved, Alexandra of Hesse. They're to be wed soon."

"So a wedding is to follow a funeral," Philip remarked. "A bit unusual, I must say."


	51. Two Innocents

Nicholas sobbed unashamedly at the funeral, and Alexandra, distressed at seeing her beloved in such pain, did her best to comfort him. Nearby stood Max and Emily with their children Gregory, Thomas, and Rebecca, Philip and Katherine with their children Bridget, Grace, Wilhelm, and Sigrid, and Giovanni and Margery with their children Maria, Benito, and Alessandro. Little Alessandro had inherited the same bleeding disorder from which his Uncle Nicholas had suffered for all his life, so his parents had to be especially diligent in seeing that he suffered as few injuries as possible.

Louis and Cecily were also there with their own children, Louise and Nicholas. To his mother's great relief, little Nicholas seemed perfectly healthy so far.

Philip of Bavaria stood beside Mary throughout the entire service, comforting her as best he could. He found that some of the feelings he'd had for her many years earlier were beginning to resurface, but he carefully held them in check, as he knew that her grief was too fresh and raw for her to even consider such a notion as reciprocating such emotions at this point.

The wedding of Nicholas and Alexandra took place a few days after George's funeral. As they'd already come for the funeral anyway, the family's guests simply stayed a few extra days so that they could attend the wedding as well.

Still under the influence of the heavy sorrow pervading their lives, the newlyweds had no honeymoon but simply spent the first night of their new life together in one of the rooms of Whitehall Palace.

"I honestly don't know what I would do if you weren't here," Nicholas said to his bride as they prepared to retire for the night.

"I'm glad I was here to comfort you in your time of sorrow," Alexandra replied.

"Alexandra, my love." Nicholas held her closely. "I don't t think you'll ever understand how much I really need you. Without you I'd be totally lost."

"I know what it's like to lose someone and be all alone with nobody to lean on," Alexandra told him.

"You'll never have to suffer like that again," Nicholas assured her. "I'll always be here for you from now on."

They began to kiss, and desire was quickly ignited within them both. Awkwardly they struggled with fasteners and laces until finally all their clothing was shed. The two innocents marveled as they ran their hands over one another's naked bodies.

"I have never seen a man in his natural state before." Intrigued by her new husband's male appendages, Alexandra couldn't resist fondling them, which Nicholas greatly enjoyed, of course. As he'd never before seen a naked woman either, unless one counted his sisters as little girls, he was fascinated by Alexandra's curves and swellings that were so different from the appearance of his own body.

After awhile they lay together on the bed, and Alexandra gasped with pleasure as Nicholas' fingers slipped between her legs to caress the tender flesh there. When she began to moan and writhe, he positioned himself and entered her for the first time. She felt a moment of pain followed by ecstasy.

* * *

><p>A few days after the wedding, most of the guests returned home. Mary found that she felt surprisingly reluctant to say good-bye to Philip.<p>

"I know that you must return to your home," she told him. "I do appreciate your being here for me in my time of grief, more than you'll ever realize."

"I don't have to go back home right away," Philip told her. "I can stay for as long as you need me to."

Mary gasped, surprised. "But surely your countrymen need you..."

"Not as much as you do."

"Philip...why, I don't quite know what to say..." Thrilled that she wasn't to lose her old friend's companionship right away after all, Mary suddenly found herself at a loss for words.

"A simple 'thank you' will suffice very nicely." Philip grinned at her, and she suddenly felt an unexpected but pleasant warmth inside.

* * *

><p>Far away in Russia, Sergei comforted his wife Julia on the news of her father's death.<p>

"He's safely in the arms of God now," he told her. "His suffering is over."

"I know," Julia moaned. "But my brother Nicholas wed Alexandra of Hesse only days after the funeral. How could he have _done _that?"

"But you told me that it was your father's dying wish that Nicholas and Alexandra wed."

"Even so, they still could have waited a decent length of time."

"Perhaps it isn't our place to pass judgement," Sergei gently suggested. "Perhaps they felt that an immediate wedding is what would have made your father happy."

"Perhaps." Still in deep pain over the loss of her father and the fact that she hadn't been able to say good-bye to him in person, Julia wasn't in the mood to give the matter much thought.


	52. Hope Once Again

Mary established Philip in semi-permanent lodgings close to her own bedchambers. The two saw one another every day and had soon established a close emotional bond.

"It's funny," Philip said to Mary one day as they were strolling the palace grounds. "When I'm here with you, it's as if no time has passed at all since I first met you as a young girl."

"When my George died, I thought that I would never be happy again," Mary replied. "I still miss him dearly, and I always will, but when I'm with you, I feel that I once again have hope."

"Darling Mary, would it be permissible for me to kiss you?"

"I would like that very much, dear Philip."

He kissed her, and for the first time since George's funeral, she felt alive.

* * *

><p>With his darling Alexandra on his arm, Nicholas revisited all his favorite spots in London.<p>

"Your country is truly beautiful," Alexandra told her husband. "I have never seen grass so green, nor flowers so colorful."

"And it's ever so much more enjoyable to behold in the presence of such a pleasing companion," Nicholas added.

"Indeed it is." Alexandra smiled.

Nicholas climbed to the top of a ridge and spread his arms. "Just imagine, my love," he said grandly. "One day all of this will be ours."

The only thing that marred their happiness was Alexandra's seeming inability to conceive. Despite regular passionate encounters with her husband, the young woman's courses appeared without fail month after month. It became a source of great distress for the young couple.

"Joanna of Tuscany has already provided her husband with an heir, and she is with child again," Mary told her son. "If you'd married her, you'd be a father now."

At last there came a month when Alexandra's courses never arrived.

"I'm almost afraid to hope," she told her husband.

"Do not fear, my love," Nicholas replied. "I'm sure that God has heard our prayers and will grant us the child we so desire."

Encouraged by his words, Alexandra paid a visit to the midwife the following day.

"You are indeed with child," the smiling woman informed her. "You will give birth in about seven months."

Nicholas saw his wife's jubilant face and guessed her news.

"We're going to be parents!" he exclaimed, picking Alexandra up and spinning her around, very gently, of course.

Alexandra's pregnancy proceeded without incident. When she was in her sixth month, Nicholas developed a nosebleed that wouldn't stop. For hours he lay in bed pale and gaunt, his life's blood flowing out of him, as Alexandra sat at his side, sobbing hysterically.

"When I was a child and something like this happened, Brother Christopher could always make the bleeding stop," Nicholas told his wife.

"Oh, how I wish he were here now!" Alexandra exclaimed.

"Please tell our son that I love him, and that I'll always be watching over him from above," Nicholas said awhile later.

"Oh, I will!" Alexandra exclaimed.

Against all odds, Nicholas pulled through the crisis, but he was weak and tired easily for many weeks afterward.

At last the day came that Alexandra went into labor. Mary, Philip, and Nicholas waited anxiously for many hours with no news. At last the exhausted midwife emerged from the birthing chambers.

"Is Alexandra all right?" Nicholas asked, almost dreading to hear the answer.

"She's still alive, but barely," the midwife told him. "It was a very difficult delivery, and she lost a lot of blood. She won't be able to have any more children."

"What about the baby?" asked Mary.

"You have a beautiful, healthy granddaughter," the midwife said with a smile. Mary's face fell.

"When can I see her?" Nicholas asked eagerly.

"Why, whenever you like," the midwife replied.

Trembling with excitement, Nicholas entered his wife's bedchambers. An attendant stood beside the bed holding the baby.

"Well, hello!" Nicholas said softly, taking the tiny bundle into his arms. His new daughter gazed up at him with her unfocused eyes, one tiny fist flailing.

"I'm your Papa, and I love you very much." He kissed the tiny forehead, then handed the baby back to the attendant.

Next he turned his attention to his wife, who lay in bed weak and completely spent, her eyes barely open.

"Hello." Nicholas sat beside her and took her hand.

"I'm so sorry." Alexandra's voice was barely a whisper.

"There's nothing to be sorry about." Nicholas smiled. "She's beautiful. You did well. I'm proud of you, Alexandra."

"I can never give you a son."

"That's all right." Nicholas gently swept the damp hair back from her forehead. "You've given me a beautiful daughter, and she will be a great Queen someday. I love you so much, my darling."

Alexandra smiled. "I want to name her Elizabeth, for my sister."

"I have an Aunt Elizabeth as well, so that will be just fine." Nicholas kissed his wife tenderly. "Get some rest now. You've earned it."

Secure in her husband's love, Alexandra had soon drifted into a deep and healing sleep.


	53. Two Lonely Souls

In Italy, Margery sat at the virginals playing a funeral march when she suddenly became aware of a commotion behind her. Curious, she turned to see Maria and Benito rushing breathlessly toward her with frightened expressions on their faces.

"Mama, hurry!" Maria gasped. "Sandro fell out of a window, and he's hurt bad!"

With her heart in her throat, Margery followed her children to the open window the little boy had tumbled from. Two-year-old Alessandro lay far below, crumpled and motionless.

"My baby!" Margery shrieked, dashing outside to where Alessandro lay. He heard her coming and turned pain-filled eyes toward her. "It hurts, Mama," he mumbled.

Margery swiftly gathered the child into her arms and ran with him back into the house. "Summon the physician right away!" she ordered a servant, next sending another servant to fetch Giovanni, who'd run an errand.

The physician arrived first. He examined the child and announced that he could find no evidence of any serious injury.

"But he's a free bleeder!" Margery exclaimed.

The physician immediately looked alarmed. "In that case, he's in God's hands now."

With a sinking heart, Margery watched as the light in her son's eyes grew dimmer. _Oh, Giovanni, where are you?_

As if he'd heard her thoughts, her husband arrived only a minute or so later. "What happened?" he demanded.

"Sandro fell out of a window!" Margery cried. "I don't know how it happened! I was sure I'd locked that window!"

"He's fading fast," the physician said solemnly.

With eyes full of sorrow, Giovanni gently gathered the small body into his arms.

"Papa." Alessandro's eyes flickered for just a moment, then went dull again. Held by his father, the little boy drew his final breath.

* * *

><p>"No!" Mary cried, beating her fists against the wall. "It can't be!"<p>

"What is it, darling?" Instantly Philip was there, taking her into his arms.

"My little grandson Alessandro in Italy," Mary sobbed. "He's g-gone!"

"But what happened?" Philip's eyes grew wide.

"He fell out of a window," Mary said. "He bled to death..."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry!" Philip held Mary as she sobbed.

"He was only two years old..."

"He's in a better place now," Philip said softly, holding Mary and stroking her back. "He's in the arms of Jesus."

Philip held and comforted Mary for a long time, and when he started to return to his own quarters, she clung to him.

"Please don't go," she begged. "Will you stay with me tonight?"

Philip's eyes widened in surprise. "Why, of course I will, my love, if that is what you wish."

"I really don't want to be alone," Mary told him.

They each changed into their sleeping garments and then retired to Mary's bed. Philip held Mary tightly, with her head resting on his chest.

"I haven't lain like this with a man since my precious George was alive," Mary said, basking in the warmth of Philip's body pressed against hers.

"Neither have I held a woman thus since my beloved wife passed."

Gradually Mary became aware that Philip's hand was softly caressing her breast through her nightgown, and to her amazement, she felt desire surge through her. Suddenly frightened, she moved away from him and scooted to the edge of the bed, where she huddled tightly. A moment later, she felt Philip's hand on her arm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's all right." Mary felt a tightening in her throat. "You didn't upset me."

Philip heaved a heavy sigh and rolled over on his side. Mary snuggled up to him and eventually drifted off to sleep, only to be jolted awake by a sudden, unnameable fear a short time later.

"Mary? Are you all right?"

She didn't even realize that she'd cried out and awakened Philip.

"I'm s-scared..."

"There's no need to be afraid. I'm here." Philip began to cover her face with soft kisses, and she felt desire surge through her once again. She grasped his face between her hands and positioned his mouth over hers, kissing him deeply so that their tongues touched. She heard him moan as he responded enthusiastically to her fervor.

Suddenly both their hands were everywhere, removing clothing, stroking newly exposed skin. She rose to meet him as he entered her, and they moved together as one, two lonely souls connecting in the ultimate act of love.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Mary awakened to the sensation of Philip's lips placing soft kisses along her jawline. She remembered the events of the previous night and blushed with shame.<p>

"How can you even look at me?" she mumbled, turning away from Philip.

"But I love you." His voice was soft as he gently turned her to face him again.

"How can you, after I've behaved like such a brazen hussy?"

Philip laughed softly. "You're no brazen hussy. You're a perfectly normal woman with normal desires, and there's no reason at all for you to be ashamed, sweet Mary."

"But before last night, I never would have dared to lie with a man to whom I am not wed..."

"That's easily rectified." Philip was grinning, and his eyes were twinkling.

Mary gasped sharply. "Why, Philip, do you mean..."

"Yes, darling Mary. I love you, and I want to make you my wife."


	54. Enrico

Margery felt the familiar depression return, the same melancholy that had haunted her after her second child had been stillborn. For days after little Alessandro's funeral, she moped listlessly around, unable to find happiness in any of her formerly pleasurable pastimes. Not even the greatest efforts of Giovanni, Maria, and Benito were able to lift her spirits.

"There are other children like Alessandro," she said to herself one day. "Children who suffer from some chronic affliction but, in many cases, have no one to care for them." Right there and then, she made an important decision. "I shall become a nurse and help care for poor children," she told Giovanni. She feared his disapproval, but to her relief, he seemed pleased instead.

"What a lovely idea!" he exclaimed. "You've always been such a loving, caring mother to our own children that I know you have much to offer those poor unfortunates."

When she first arrived at the hospital for indigents, the sight that greeted her broke her heart. In the small ward, row after row of rickety cots held thin, filthy children dressed in rags. Many had bloated stomachs, and their arms and legs were as thin as sticks. Margery noticed one little boy who reminded her so much of Alessandro that she had to gasp. Right away she asked another nurse about him.

"His name is Enrico," the nurse told her. "He was found abandoned on the hospital steps when he was a baby. None of us have ever heard him say a word. We suspect that he may be feeble minded."

"Poor little thing!" Margery exclaimed, going to his side.

"Hello, Enrico!" she said enthusiastically. He continued to stare blankly at the ceiling, completely ignoring her.

"Enrico?" She waved her hand in front of his face. He blinked, then suddenly looked at her and smiled.

"My name is Margery," she told him. He looked confused for a moment, then reached out and touched her lips.

"Mar...ger...y," she repeated, carefully enunciating each syllable. Enrico grinned widely.

"I used to have a little boy who looked just like you," she told him. "He's up in heaven with Jesus now." Enrico only stared uncomprehendingly.

The daily ration of soup was about to be passed out to the children. Enrico grabbed his portion and quickly gobbled it up. Margery reached into the folds of her dress and produced a bread stick. "Would you like a bread stick?" she asked Enrico. Suddenly she had an idea. Quickly locating a small slate and a piece of chalk, she wrote the word 'bread' on it, then pointed from the word to the bread stick.

She watched as Enrico picked the chalk up and, with much effort, managed to draw a very primitive letter 'B'.

"Very good!" Margery smiled and clapped, and Enrico smiled and clapped, too.

"You must have had a very productive first day of volunteering at the hospital," Giovanni commented that evening. "You're all smiles!"

"I met the most charming little boy," Margery told him. "His name is Enrico, and he's just about exactly the same age Alessandro was. Another nurse told me he was feeble minded, but I personally think he's simply unable to hear." She told him of the experiment that day with the bread stick.

"I think you're absolutely right!" Giovanni sounded excited. "You are going back to the hospital tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away." Margery grinned.

The following day began just like that day had. Enrico was totally oblivious to Margery's presence until she waved a hand in front of his face, at which time he turned to her and smiled.

After a few days, Enrico began to anticipate Margery's arrival and look for her. She never heard him say a word, but she found that he imitated her hand movements and quickly picked up on their meanings.

"I think I've fallen in love with Enrico," she confessed to Giovanni one day. "Please, may I bring him here to live with us?"

"That would be marvelous!" Giovanni grinned. "He needs a home and a family to love him, and he'll help fill the hole left by the loss of Alessandro."

"How would you like a new brother?" Margery asked Maria and Benito.

"Are you going to have another baby, Mama?" asked Maria.

"No," her mother told her. "But as you know, I've been spending part of most days volunteering at the hospital for indigents, and I've gotten to know a very special little boy there named Enrico. He can't hear, but he's very smart, and I'd really like for him to come and live with us."

"But how can we talk to him if he can't hear?" asked Maria.

"He understands many hand gestures, and even comes up with a lot of them on his own," her mother told her.

"I want him to be my new little brother," said Benito.

"Very well." Margery smiled. "Tomorrow I shall start the necessary procedures, and I'll bring him home to live with us just as soon as I can."


	55. Returning To England

Queen Mary's wedding to Philip of Bavaria was almost as grand as her first wedding to George Boleyn all those years ago had been. Philip's son Philip who was married to Mary's daughter Katherine was there, of course, and Giovanni and Margery with their children, Louis and Cecily with their children, and Nicholas and Alexandra with little Elizabeth also attended. Philip's other four children, Juergen, Astrid, Helmut, and Gretchen were also there with their families. It was the first time Mary had ever met them, and she was amazed to have married into such a large family. They were all very polite and kind, and seemed happy that their father had found someone to love. Mary spent so much time greeting and getting to know her new relatives by marriage that she was quite exhausted by mid-afternoon.

"I have never seen you look so beautiful as you do today," Philip said to his bride. "It seems to me that you haven't aged at all since that day so many years ago when a lovely young English girl stole my heart."

"How well I remember that day!" Mary exclaimed. "I wanted so badly to marry you then, but my father forbade it."

"Well, there's no one to stop us from being together now," Philip said happily. "May I please have this dance, beautiful Queen?"

"Gladly." She went into his arms, and as he spun her around, time seemed to melt away until they were once again those two starry-eyed young lovers.

* * *

><p>"But Mama, why do we have to leave?" young Anastasia Romanova asked her mother, Julia.<p>

"The plague has devastated our beloved country," Julia sadly told her daughter. "Hundreds die every day. We must escape while there is still time."

"But will we ever come back again?" asked little Georgiy.

"I don't know," his father, Sergei, told him. "It depends upon how long the plague lingers in our land, and also upon how we find life in England."

"England seems so far away, like a land in a fairy tale," Anastasia commented. "Is it true that it doesn't snow at Christmastime there?"

"It's true that it doesn't snow in England as much as it does here," her mother told her. "But it _does _snow some, and yes, often even at Christmastime."

"Tell me again about the time you left England and came to Russia, Mama," requested Anastasia, who never tired of hearing of her mother's daring adventure for the sake of love.

As the family journeyed west in their carriage, Julia recounted the story to her children. She followed it with other stories of her childhood, with Sergei, who was controlling the horses, contributing an occasional anecdote of his own.

At last it began to grow dark, and the family stopped at an inn to eat and spend the night. They were given a room with two double beds, one for Sergei and Julia to share and the other for the children.

"It will be wonderful to see my mother and siblings again," Julia said as she cuddled up to her husband. "I've not seen any of them in ever so long, since well before my father passed on."

"I know," Sergei said sympathetically. He felt compassion for his wife because she hadn't been there to say good-bye to her father. "It seems so long ago that I met them all myself. I can't help but wonder what it will be like to see them again."

She lay in his arms, and he lightly traced his fingers up and down her back as she stretched like a cat and sighed in contentment. "I can't wait to meet my new nieces and nephews either!"

"Yes, it will be nice for Nastya and Georgiy to finally meet their cousins." Although they were both in the mood, they didn't make love for fear of waking the children.

Days later, they arrived at Whitehall Palace and were admitted into Mary and Philip's presence.

"My dearest Julia!" Mary cried, rushing to embrace her second daughter.

"Mama!" Julia exclaimed, returning the embrace. Any animosity between them over Julia's long-ago escape to Russia had been forgotten many years ago.

"Philip! It's lovely to see you again as well!" Julia continued, embracing her stepfather, whom she'd last seen at her sister Katherine's wedding many years previously.

"It's lovely to meet you, Your Grace," Sergei said to his father-in-law as he shook Philip's hand.

"And this must be Anastasia and Georgiy." Mary turned to the children.

"It's lovely to meet you, Your Majesty," Anastasia said politely, dropping a curtsy.

Mary smiled warmly at her. "I'm your grandmother, and that's what you should call me."

Mary and Philip made a big fuss over the children, showering them with attention and presents, and in the meantime, Sergei and Julia were shown to elaborate guest chambers, where they would stay until permanent lodging could be found for them.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful my dear England was," Julia said wistfully, standing at the window and looking out upon the garden.

"Mm, you're beautiful as well," Sergei murmured, embracing her from behind and kissing her neck.

"Sergei." Julia's voice was a whisper as she turned to face him and her lips met his. Skillfully he reached to draw the curtains, and they moved to the bed.

"At last I have you all to myself," Sergei said as he began to remove her clothing, and she his. Days of stored-up passion at last found release as he entered her and they began to move together with abandon. She cried out a few moments later, and he followed closely behind. Afterwards they lay panting on one another's arms. Julia yawned in drowsy contentment as her husband's fingers moved lightly over her back, tracing lazy circles.

"Well, shall we explore the garden now?" Sergei finally asked.


	56. Lost

Robert Dudley, the oldest son of Robert and Elizabeth, was visiting his aunt the Queen with his family when he saw a girl he'd never seen before sitting in the Queen's parlor reading a book. She had wavy light brown hair and blue eyes, and he thought she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

"Hello," he said with a friendly smile.

"Oh!" Startled, she dropped the book.

"I'm sorry," said Robert. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's quite all right," she said with a smile.

"I'm Robert Dudley, the Queen's nephew," he told her.

"My name is Anastasia Romanova," she replied. "The Queen is my grandmother."

"I've never seen you around before."

"My family arrived only recently from Russia. We came to England to escape the plague."

"Have you seen all the rooms in the palace yet?" he asked.

"Not yet."

"Come on. I'll show them to you."

Excited, she put the book down on the chair next to the one she'd been sitting in and went with him. He showed her the room where the crowns and royal jewels were kept, the room where the gifts from the monarchs of other countries were stored, the ice room where perishable foods were kept surrounded by giant blocks of ice, and many other rooms. They were nowhere near finished when Anastasia said that she wanted to see the gardens.

"They're huge!" Robert told her excitedly. "It would take most of a day to see them all."

Anastasia eagerly followed her new friend outside, where they walked up and down rows and rows of beautiful flowers and other interesting plants. Before they realized it, they had reached the woods where the noblemen of the palace liked to go hunting.

"There's lots more I could show you in the woods, if you're not too scared," Robert told his new friend.

_"I'm _not too scared," Anastasia said, immediately rising to the challenge.

Within moments, she was gasping as Robert raised a large stone that had been lying on the ground, underneath which dwelt a variety of species of insects and worms. The creatures immediately scampered for cover, except for one rather unfortunate beetle, which Robert quickly snatched and held in his hand. He showed it to Anastasia, who just stared with big eyes, before setting in free.

The next creature Robert captured was a small black snake, which he also showed to Anastasia, who screamed and ran away.

"I thought you weren't scared," Robert teased.

"Don't _ever _do that again!" Anastasia cried.

"I'm sorry." Robert was immediately penitent. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Anastasia continued to sulk, until Robert picked a lovely flower and showed it to her. She smiled then, and everything was all right again.

The children were having so much fun that they didn't even notice that it was getting darker. Anastasia soon felt the first raindrop on her arm, and suddenly the rain was coming down in torrents.

"Quick! There's a cave over here," Robert told her. The cave was dark but roomy. Soon it grew even darker, and the two children began to yawn. In almost no time they were curled up together on the cave's floor, fast asleep.

* * *

><p>Julia first missed her daughter when it was time for the evening meal.<p>

"Have you seen Nastya?" she asked her husband.

"The last time I saw her, she was in the parlor reading," he replied.

"Have you seen your sister lately?" she asked little Georgiy, who solemnly shook his head.

Julia rushed to the parlor, then to several adjacent rooms. "I'll check this side of the palace, and you check the other," Sergei suggested. Swiftly they both ran from room to room, calling their daughter's name, to no avail.

"The last time I saw her, she was with Robert," offered Robert's older sister, Rachel.

"Oh, dear Lord." Robert's mother, Elizabeth, rolled her eyes.

"They could be anywhere," her husband, Robert, shrugged helplessly. The Dudleys joined the Romanovs in their search for the missing children. Queen Mary was alerted, and she sent a number of servants with lamps to patiently comb the gardens and the woods beyond.


	57. Found

Approaching footsteps awakened the sleeping children, and Robert automatically moved in front of Anastasia to protect her. A lamp appeared at the cave's entrance, and in its light, Robert could see two brown eyes glaring angrily at him.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice quaking with fear.

"Servants of Her Majesty," the man replied. "Sent to search for the two errant children who strayed too far away from home without permission."

"I'm sorry," Robert said meekly.

"I'm not the one you should be saying that to," the man told him. "Come with us."

Relieved to have been found but terrified of what the consequences of what they had done might be, Robert and Anastasia followed the men back to the palace.

The Dudleys and the Romanovs all waited together in the parlor for the return of the servants. Julia was crying, and Sergei was doing his best to comfort her.

At last the children, accompanied by the servants, appeared, severely shaken but safe. "My baby!" Julia ran to Anastasia and hugged her tightly, showering her with kisses.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, young man," Robert Dudley told his son sternly.

"It was all my fault," young Robert told his father. "It was my idea to go exploring. Anastasia's not going to get into trouble, is she?"

"That's for her parents to decide," Robert replied. "I want to know how you ended up in a cave in the woods."

"Well, you see, I offered to show Anastasia all the rooms in the palace, since she hasn't seen them all yet. After awhile we got bored and wanted to go see the gardens. We got all the way to the back, and...well, there was this really interesting cave I wanted to show Anastasia. While we were in the cave it started raining, and we decided to wait until it stopped to go back, but then it started getting dark, and...we fell asleep. I really am sorry, Papa." He put on his most penitent face.

"Well...as long as you understand the gravity of what you did, and you promise never to do it again, I suppose a stern warning will suffice this time."

"Oh, thank you, Papa!"

Robert's sister Rachel saw that her brother's fingers had been crossed behind his back the entire time, but she didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>After Julia had finished hugging and kissing her daughter, it was Sergei's turn.<p>

"I was so frightened!" Julia exclaimed. "I was afraid someone had kidnapped you!"

"Robert was with me the whole time, and as long as he was there, I wasn't afraid," Anastasia replied. "Although he did try to get me to touch a snake once." She shuddered.

"Where did he take you?"

"Just into the garden, and then a little ways into the woods. We would have come back, but then it started raining so we went into the cave, and the next thing I remember, there was a man with a lamp talking to Robert."

"Well, you're home and safe now, so I suppose no major harm was done," Sergei concluded.

"It is very late, however, so you need to put your nightgown on and go to bed right away," Julia added.

"Yes, ma'am," Anastasia said quickly.

"It seems so unlike her to do a thing like this," Julia said to her husband after Anastasia had left.

"That Dudley boy is a bad influence on her," Sergei replied. "I think we should forbid her from associating with him any more."


	58. A Sinister Plan

"You have never seen my beautiful Bavaria," Philip said to Mary. "I'd love to take you there."

"Oh, how I'd love to see it!" Mary exclaimed. "If only I didn't have a country to rule," she added wryly.

"You could leave Nicholas as regent for a few weeks," Philip suggested. "He's an adult now. I don't see why he couldn't hold the fort down for a few weeks."

Mary frowned. "Nicky's intelligent enough, but also quite inexperienced," she mused. "I'm just not sure he's ready for the responsibility."

"He will be King someday," Philip pointed out. "What better way for him to gain experience?"

"You're right, of course," Mary agreed. "And yet..."

"You work so hard." Philip caressed her arm gently. "If anyone deserves a vacation, it's you."

Mary smiled. "Let's do it."

* * *

><p>"But this is just so...sudden!" Nicholas exclaimed. To Alexandra he looked stunned, with eyes wide in disbelief. "I just feel so...unprepared."<p>

"I have faith in you, sweetheart." She went to him and embraced him. "You've known from birth that you're going to be King someday. So what if it's a bit sooner than you expected? You certainly have the intelligence and dedication. I know that you can do it! Why, your mother was only a few years older than you are now when she became Queen."

"So is Papa going to be King now?" asked four-year-old Elizabeth.

"For a few weeks, while your grandmother is visiting Bavaria," her mother told her.

"So that means he gets to make all the rules?"

"For a short time, yes." Nicholas chuckled.

"So you get to tell everybody else what to do all the time."

Nicholas laughed. "It means I have to know the right thing to do myself all the time."

"So what shall you do to people who don't do what you tell them to do? Throw them into the dungeon?"

Alexandra chuckled. "I could never imagine you throwing anyone into a dungeon, dear," she told her husband.

* * *

><p>It truly is a majestic place," Mary said as she looked around at the evergreens dotting the grassy plains and the backdrop of snow-capped mountains in the distance. "I'm happy that my grandchildren are growing up in the midst of such beauty." She greeted her daughter Katherine and her grandchildren Bridget, Grace, Wilhelm, and Sigrid with joy. She hadn't seen any of them since she'd wed Philip.<p>

"What a lovely home you have!" she exclaimed as Katherine showed her around the comfortable cottage she shared with her husband Philip.

"Come see our garden, Grandmother," invited Bridget, the oldest grandchild. The garden was bordered by neatly trimmed hedges, beyond which more evergreens towered. A neat row of small purple flowers, behind which was a small statue, ran along one side, and in the center were more purple and deep red flowers arranged in circular patterns. A larger statue sat at the far end of the garden.

"Why, it's lovely!" Mary exclaimed. Suddenly she heard barking, and a German shepherd ran up to her and almost knocked her down. "Oh!" she cried, startled.

"Down, Fritz!" yelled Wilhelm.

"This is our dog, Fritz," Grace giggled.

"So I see." Mary smiled bemusedly.

* * *

><p>"Her Majesty has traveled to Bavaria, leaving her son Nicholas as regent in the meantime," John Dudley, Robert Sr.'s father, said to Thomas Wyatt, Anne Boleyn's stepson. The two men were at the former's home, enjoying their weekly ale together.<p>

"That's hardly news," Thomas replied.

"Can't you see?" John slammed his mug down onto the tabletop hard enough to make the younger man blink, startled. "It's the perfect opportunity!"

"What do you have in mind?" Thomas was paying rapt attention now.

"Lady Jane Grey, a distant Tudor cousin, and also my daughter-in-law," John began. "Most importantly, a devout and fervent Protestant. Nicholas Tudor-Boleyn is young, inexperienced, and sickly. He will be easy to manipulate. We shall advise him that the many Protestants of the land deserve equal representation and persuade him to sign a decree that, for their sake, Lady Jane shall be his co-ruler, equal to him in every way. That's part A of our plan."

Thomas was grinning, and his eyes gleamed with interest. "I take it there's a part B to the plan, then?"

"Indeed there is." John leaned so close to Thomas that the latter could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Once Lady Jane has been firmly established as the Protestant co-ruler of England, Nicholas shall be quickly and silently dispensed with, most likely with poison."

Thomas gasped. "But your grandchildren have always idolized Nicholas so! They would be devastated by his loss."

"Be that as it may," John replied. "Nicholas is Her Majesty's only son, and the last chance for Catholicism to maintain its stronghold on the land. All four of her daughters are married to foreign princes and living in foreign lands. Chances that they could successfully challenge Lady Jane's rule would be minimal."

"And what of when the Queen returns?"

"I am confident that she will be too weakened with grief over the loss of her son to be able to put up much of a fight against our army."

"And what of Nicholas' daughter, Elizabeth?"

"I have incontrovertible proof that Elizabeth is the result of an affair between the Duchess Alexandra and a gentleman of the court. Once I make this proof known, her claim to the throne will be invalidated."

"Truly you have thought of everything," Thomas said admiringly.

"Indeed I have," John said confidently. "Upon the successful execution of our plan, England shall be under Protestant rule. I know that I can count on you, my friend, to help bring it to fruition."

"I am at your service, sir."

"A true chip off the old block you are, me lad." John clapped Thomas on the shoulder approvingly, remembering Thomas Sr.'s role in the long-ago demise of Brother Christopher.


	59. Lady Jane Grey

"But I have no desire to be Queen," Lady Jane Grey objected.

"But you _must," _John Dudley insisted. "Can't you see? The Protestants of England are depending on you!"

Jane looked pleadingly at her husband, Guilford. "I think you should do it, sweetheart," he told her. "You're intelligent, compassionate, sincere, devoted. You would make a wonderful Queen."

"But the throne is rightfully Her Majesty's, and in her absence, whomever she deems appropriate as regent. I have no desire to become a usurper."

"The Lord has appointed me as His instrument, to ensure that His will prevails. Do you believe it to be His will that one who worships idols hold the throne?" asked John.

"Were it not His will, He would have made a way for it to be otherwise," Jane replied.

"But can't you see, Jane? This _is _His way!" John insisted.

"Please, darling, my father is right," said Guilford. "If you won't do it for the sake of the Protestants of our country, then do it for my sake."

* * *

><p>"John Dudley and Thomas Wyatt are here to see you, Your Grace," the court herald told Nicholas.<p>

"Show them in," Nicholas replied.

John and Thomas entered his presence, giving cursory bows.

"Your Grace," John began. "I must address you on a matter of most pressing urgency. You see, it has come to my attention that the Protestants of England have been underrepresented for many years. This is an abhorrent situation that must be put right at once."

"It has always been my mother's policy to leave those of heretical persuasion alone, to practice their religion, however errant it may be, in peace," Nicholas replied. "What more can they want?"

"Full representation at court."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"A believer in the Protestant faith to share your crown, to ensure that their interests are met." Thomas Wyatt spoke for the first time.

"No!" Nicholas was so upset that he rose from his throne and took several steps toward his two visitors. "My mother would _never _condone such madness!"

"Your Grace, you do not understand the Protestant citizenry as I do," John Dudley said smoothly. "The lot of them are seething with unrest, and if their demands aren't met, I fear they will revolt soon. You remember when civil war broke out between your mother's armies and Oliver Cromwell's forces. Things could be even worse this time. The Protestant leaders have selected me as their spokesperson."

Nicholas paled. "And who do you propose to be my co-ruler?"

"Lady Jane Grey Dudley, a distant cousin of yours."

Nicholas looked thoughtful. "I'm sure I've heard of her before, and possibly even met her once or twice. She's a descendant of my grandfather's younger sister, is she not?"

"Indeed she is," John told the young ruler.

"Tell her that I am willing to meet with her and discuss her plans for altering the country's laws."

"I'm afraid that will not suffice, Your Grace. The Protestants will not be appeased until she is granted a position of power equal to your own."

Nicholas was stunned. "And this is truly the only way to prevent another civil war?"

* * *

><p>"Lady Jane!" Nicholas said. "It is my pleasure to welcome you to Whitehall Palace."<p>

"The pleasure is mine, Your Grace." Jane was a rather short, slight young woman with dark hair and eyes and a pale complexion. "This is my husband, Guilford Dudley." Guildford was tall, with blond hair and blue eyes.

"My wife is the former Alix of Hesse," Nicholas told the Dudleys. "Surely you shall both meet her soon."

"Shall we get right down to business, then?" asked Lady Jane. As she and Nicholas worked together, it became apparent to Nicholas that, far from trying to force Protestant beliefs upon the Catholic population of England, Jane was far more concerned with the welfare of the nation's homeless and destitute.

"The loathsome business of branding vagabonds on their chests must be stopped immediately," she insisted.

Nicholas gasped, shocked. "I was completely unaware that such a practice still persisted to this day, as, I'm sure, my mother is as well," he said. "I will certainly see that it is brought to an end right away."

* * *

><p>Alexandra waited anxiously for her husband's return from court. She knew that today was the day Nicholas was to meet with his new co-ruler, and she feared that things might not go well. From the limited amount she'd heard about Lady Jane, she knew that the woman was quite intelligent and absolutely devoted to the Protestant faith. Would she attempt to browbeat Nicholas into passing measures antagonistic to Catholicism?<p>

At last she saw Nicholas approaching their chambers and relaxed considerably, as he didn't look perturbed at all to her.

"How did it go?" she asked eagerly.

"Quite well, surprisingly," Nicholas replied. "Amazingly, the subject of religion didn't even come up. Lady Jane is very concerned about the impoverished citizens of our country and wants to help them in any way possible. Her husband seems like a decent chap as well."

"We'll have to have them over for dinner one night," Alexandra suggested. "Tomorrow, perhaps."

"Excellent!" Nicholas grinned. "I shall speak to them about it the next time I see them."


	60. An Otherworldly Visitation

"Papa!" Nicholas turned to see Elizabeth running toward him. He scooped her up and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Were you a good girl for Mama today?"

Elizabeth nodded solemnly. "I was as good as gold."

"Good as gold, you say?" He glanced at Alexandra in amusement. "Was she, Mama?"

Alexandra smiled. "Except for one or two minor misdeeds."

"That's my girl!" Nicholas said approvingly. "And how was Mama?" he asked gently, aware of his wife's concerns.

"You were much on my mind," she admitted. "I felt much better when I saw you returning in good spirits."

"And why shouldn't I be in good spirits, when I know that I will soon be in the arms of my dear Alix?" He took her face between his hands and kissed her lips.

Later, after Elizabeth had gone to bed, she walked into her husband's study to find him poring over legal documents. "Lady Jane got me to thinking," he told her. "There are some very archaic laws still being enforced today, many of which are quite barbaric and inhumane. They must be rescinded as soon as possible." He yawned.

She walked up behind him and began to massage his shoulders. "There will be plenty of time to worry about that tomorrow." Her voice was as smooth as silk as she leaned over to nibble on his earlobe. "Come, let me help take your mind off your worries."

Shoving the papers to the side, he rose and followed her into their sleeping chambers. Once there, she unbuttoned his doublet and gently slid it from his shoulders, then began to gently run her hands over his chest. At the same time, he unfastened her dress and let it fall, then began to massage her breasts, feeling the nipples quickly harden. Nimbly she stepped out of the dress, and her hand went to the front of his breeches, gently cupping his genitals. A moment later, her hands moved to the sides to tug both his breeches and his hose down, freeing his semi-erect member, which she immediately took into her mouth.

Nicholas began to moan softly and tenderly ran his fingers through her hair as she suckled him. When she could tell that he was close to the edge, she lay back on the bed and eagerly parted her legs. Right away, his lips, tongue, and fingers were there, quickly bringing her to ecstasy. When he knew that she was ready, he moved atop her and entered her. Within moments they climaxed together, then fell asleep in one another's arms.

* * *

><p>"I was raised Protestant as well, Lutheran, to be exact," Alexandra told Guilford and Jane over dinner the following evening. "I didn't convert to Catholicism until I married Nicholas."<p>

"I've read extensively on Lutheran doctrine," Jane replied. "It's very similar to the Calvinist doctrine to which we Anglicans adhere."

"My father's family were Protestants as well," Nicholas added. "However, my parents never allowed their religious differences to stand in the way of their marital happiness."

"Even if Jane were a Papist, I would love her no less," Guilford agreed.

* * *

><p>"The new co-rulers seem to be working exceptionally well together," Thomas Wyatt said to John Dudley.<p>

"They do," John agreed. "Although I am disappointed to see that the Mass is still said in Latin rather than English, and that many other outdated traditions still prevail."

"Just wait a little longer," Thomas replied. "As devoted to the Protestant cause as Lady Jane is, I'm sure all the changes we demand will be implemented in due time."

"I'm afraid they're not coming about nearly as quickly as I'd hoped," John said. "I believe it's time to start thinking about putting part B of our plan into motion."

* * *

><p>Mary was lying in bed in a state between wakefulness and sleep when he appeared to her, healthy, youthful, and vibrant, just as her mother had been all those years ago.<p>

"George!" Quickly she arose to embrace him, but something stopped her. He was bathed in glowing light, and as her arms came into contact with it, they seemed to simply disappear into it.

"Mary." His voice was full of love and compassion as he placed a hand on her shoulder, and rather than an actual physical touch, she felt a comforting warmth. Suddenly she thought of Philip and felt a mixture of confusion and guilt.

"There's no reason at all for you to feel guilty, Mary, my love." It was as if he'd read her mind. "It was one of my fondest desires that you move on in life and find love again." Relief mingled with gratitude flowed over her.

"However, you must return to England as quickly as possible," George continued. "Our son's life is in great danger."


	61. Mary's Return

"Quickly, Philip! We must return to England right away!" Frantically, Mary shook her sleeping husband awake. "Nicholas is in danger!"

"Wh-what?" Philip mumbled, struggling to arise from the depths of deep sleep from which he'd just been awakened.

"My son's life is in danger!" Mary repeated. "Someone wishes him harm!"

"But how could that be? England is now at peace, otherwise I never would have suggested your leaving the country!"

"It isn't danger from an outside country invading, but danger from inside England itself," Mary replied. "Someone of the nobility, but not in line for the throne himself, plans to supplant Nicholas with a Tudor relative with Protestant leanings. Please don't ask how I know, but I am certain of it."

"As I'm sure that your imagination has taken some wild meanderings of late." Philip chuckled. "Nevertheless, if your maternal instincts have become disquieted, I suppose that it's time to return home so that your mind can be put at ease. May I please have a few hours in which to bid my children and grandchildren good-bye?"

"Of course, but please hurry!" Mary was near tears as Philip gave her a quick hug and kiss.

"Everything will be all right, my love."

* * *

><p>John Dudley entered the royal kitchen and approached the head cook. "I must discuss a matter of utmost importance with you," he stated. The head cook regarded the middle-aged, bearded man with suspicion.<p>

"I'm the father-in-law of His Majesty's co-ruler, Lady John Grey Dudley," John continued. "As such, I have nothing but the regent's best interests at heart. You see, His Majesty has been feeling poorly lately, and his physician has prescribed vitamin supplements to be added to his food."

"And who has appointed you to bring this news to me, and why should I believe you?"

Meanwhile, Thomas Wyatt had waited until he was sure the head cook was completely distracted, then quickly slipped a white powder into the stew pot. He had no idea that Lady Jane Grey had witnessed his every move.

* * *

><p>Nicholas and Alexandra were returning from a pleasant morning outing when Lady Jane approached them, face flushed with exertion. "Nicholas!" she cried. "I have just witnessed the food of which you are about to partake being poisoned!"<p>

Nicholas paled. "By whom, pray tell?"

Lady Jane hesitated, thinking of her husband, Guilford. Although she'd been forced to marry him against her wishes, over time, she'd come to love him very much. What would his reaction be if her words caused his own father to be imprisoned, or even worse? Would he hate her forever, blaming her for his father's ruination?

She hesitated for only a second, realizing that, despite her concerns regarding Guilford and her marriage, she'd never be able to live with herself if she were less than honest with Nicholas.

"There seemed to be two men involved," she said. "I didn't recognize the man who actually slipped the substance into the cooking pot, but the man who accompanied him was...he was my father-in-law, Lord John Dudley."

* * *

><p>Guilford Dudley's face was pale as he entered his wife's chambers. "My father was arrested and charged with treason today, along with Thomas Wyatt," he told Jane. "They were accused of attempting to poison the regent's food and are now imprisoned in the Tower, awaiting trial."<p>

Jane looked at her husband with sorrowful eyes, not saying a word.

"I knew my father was ambitious, but I never dreamed he'd resort to this," Guilford continued.

"I had to tell Nicholas the truth!" Suddenly Jane was sobbing, hard. "I couldn't just let him eat the poison and die!"

Guilford was stunned. "It was _you _who told the regent of the attempt upon his life, wasn't it?" he asked softly.

Jane nodded miserably. A moment later, she felt Guilford's arms around her, holding her tightly. "I'm not angry, my love. What you did was right. I always suspected that my father would end up in a situation like this some day. It's no one's fault but his own, and yet..."

Jane looked up into his eyes.

"It's so hard to believe that this time, he may actually be facing the axe," Guilford finished softly.

* * *

><p>"Mother!" Nicholas exclaimed, rushing to embrace Mary as she entered his presence. "Did you not enjoy your stay in Bavaria?"<p>

"It was pleasant beyond my wildest dreams," Mary replied. "But I could stay no longer. Your father appeared to me, son, and warned me that you were in danger.

"My _father?" _Nicholas was incredulous.

"Don't ask me how it happened," Mary told her son. "It simply did, but I can't tell you how relieved I am to find you alive and safe upon my return."

"There was indeed an attempt upon my life recently," Nicholas told his mother. "It's only thanks to my co-ruler, Lady Jane Grey, that the plan didn't succeed."

Mary's mouth dropped open. "Your _co-ruler?"_


	62. Consequences

"In your absence, Lord John Dudley and Lord Thomas Wyatt the Younger convinced me that a Protestant co-ruler was necessary to ensure that the country's Protestants were given equal representation," Nicholas explained. "They persuaded me to appoint our distant cousin Lady Jane Grey as my co-ruler. Shortly before you arrived, Lady Jane witnessed John Dudley distracting the cook while Thomas Wyatt slipped poison into the food I was to be served that day. Both men have been arrested and taken to the Tower, where they await your decision on their fate."

"They shall both die!" Mary's eyes blazed with fury as her mind recoiled in horror from her son's dreadful words. So George had been right, after all! "They shall be delivered to the headsman as quickly as possible, and this co-reign shall be dissolved! Bring Lady Jane Grey before me right away!"

"Please deal mercifully with her, Mother," Nicholas begged the Queen. "She had no part in the plot herself, and indeed did save my life by alerting me to the fact that my food had been poisoned."

"Yet for her to accept joint possession of the crown was an act of treason itself," Mary pointed out.

"She didn't initially want to accept the crown," Nicholas told his mother. "She was pressured into it."

"Even so, the fact stands. What anti-Catholic measures did she attempt to pass in my absence?"

"None at all, Mother. She repealed the practice of branding vagabonds on their chests and proposed other measures to help the destitute."

Mary's eyes narrowed. "And that was the extent of her involvement in the governing of the land?"

"It was, Mother. I swear it to you."

Lady Jane appeared before Nicholas and his mother, her eyes wide with fear. Nicholas placed a comforting hand upon her trembling arm.

"Your Majesty." Jane curtsied deeply before Mary.

"My son told me of your efforts to ease the plight of the poor of the nation."

"Yes, Your Majesty. The extent of their suffering troubles me deeply."

"You have a generous heart, my dear, and God will see that your efforts are rewarded. However, I cannot allow you to continue to wear the crown of England alongside myself. It belongs to me and my progeny alone, as per the will of my late father, King Henry VIII."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Jane was visibly relieved.

"Return to your home and your husband, Lady Jane Grey, and may our dear Lord bless and keep you."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Lady Jane curtsied once more and then was gone.

* * *

><p>The morning John Dudley and Thomas Wyatt the Younger were to be executed dawned clear and bright, crisp and cool. On the scaffold, the executioner stood before the block, his mask in place and his still-clean axe at his side.<p>

Slowly the crowd gathered to witness the sobering event. Nicholas and Alexandra with little Elizabeth. Lady Jane Grey and her husband. Robert and Elizabeth Dudley and their four children. Sergei and Julia with Anastasia and Georgiy.

All was quiet as John Dudley mounted the steps first. "Good people, you have all come to watch me die. Though my death be odious and horrible to the flesh, God does all for the best. I am but a wretched sinner who has justly been condemned to die by law. I forgive all men, and pray God to forgive them as well. If I have offended any of you here, I pray you to forgive me, and most chiefly, I beg forgiveness of Her Majesty the Queen, whom I have most grievously offended. Please see that I depart with all clarity and love, and assist me with your prayers at this, my time of death." He folded his hands in prayer and gazed toward the heavens. "Into Thy hands, oh Lord, I commend my spirit."

"Will you forgive me?" asked the executioner.

"I forgive you with all my heart, and do your part without fear." He bowed before the block. "I have deserved a thousand deaths." He laid his head upon the block, and the axe swung.

"Behold the head of a traitor!" the executioner shouted, snatching the bloody head from the straw and holding it aloft for all to see.

The execution of Thomas Wyatt the Younger followed, and then the crowd began to disperse. Anastasia Romanova saw her friend Robert Dudley crying his heart out and left her family to go and comfort him. "Robin," she said, placing a soft hand upon his arm.

He lifted a tear-streaked face to look at her. "He was my grandfather!" he wailed.

"I know," said Anastasia. "I'm so sorry." She put her arms around the young boy and held him close.

"Come on, Anastasia," Julia urged her daughter.

"Robin's coming with us." Anastasia took her friend's hand. "He's going to spend the afternoon with us, and have dinner with us as well."

"All right," Julia said after a moment's surprised hesitation. "Very well, then."


	63. The Death Of Anne Boleyn

As Anne Boleyn's seventieth birthday approached, her eyes grew dim and a bleak loneliness filled her soul. After the death of her husband, Thomas Wyatt, she'd returned to England to find that it had changed very much. Many familiar faces had vanished, to be replaced with those of strangers. Only the company of her daughter Elizabeth and her grandchildren brought her comfort. Anne had taken the execution of her stepson, Thomas Wyatt, hard. The young man had been like a son to her, and his death had been like the dimming of a light in her life.

She began to visit his grave on a regular basis, sitting there for hours, remembering him, remembering his father. Occasionally even memories of Henry and her long-ago marriage to him would intrude; the passion they'd shared in the beginning, the mixture of joy and disappointment they'd felt after Elizabeth's birth, the intrusion of the Seymours and their wicked schemes.

On one such visit, she felt an intense pain in her chest, one so severe that it quite took her breath away; the next thing she was aware of, she was lying on her back looking up at the sky. She sensed the approach of a figure and, thinking she must have died, wondered whether it was an angel.

"Mother?" It was a woman's voice, and she sounded concerned; alarmed, even.

"Elizabeth?" But as the woman drew nearer, Anne realized that it was not Elizabeth, but her stepdaughter, Anne Wyatt, whom she'd always called Nan. Nan had never married, but had remained a devoted daughter to Thomas and Anne, caring for them in their advancing age and nursing her father until his death.

"I told you you shouldn't come here so often." Nan glanced at the simple wooden cross marking her brother's eternal resting place in sorrow. "You know it isn't good for your health."

"But when I'm here, I feel close to him," Anne objected.

"Well, the rest of us like to feel close to you as well." Nan helped her stepmother to stand and, leaning heavily on the younger woman, Anne somehow made it back into her modest home, where she collapsed into bed.

* * *

><p>"It's her heart," the physician said gravely. "It's very weak. The time she has left on earth is drawing to a close. You'd better get the rest of the family members together right away." A sorrowful Nan did as he suggested.<p>

Elizabeth, Robert, and their children were spending the day riding horses when the messenger arrived to give them the news, and he had to leave word with a servant, who delivered the news to them upon their return home.

With a heavy heart, Elizabeth journeyed with her family to see her mother for the last time on earth. When she saw Anne lying in bed, she could only gasp in shock at her appearance. Her once raven hair was now completely snow white, and the eyes that had once been described as dark hooks for the soul were now clouded with cataracts. Elizabeth thought that she'd never looked so tiny as when she lay there, her skin wizened with age.

"Mother!" Elizabeth exclaimed, hugging Anne's fragile form very gently.

"Before I go, there's something I want you to have," Anne said with much difficulty. Nan placed a small box into her hands, and she passed it to Elizabeth, who opened it to see that it contained the pearl necklace with the letter 'B.'

"Thank you, Mother." Tears were in Elizabeth's eyes as she tenderly embraced the elderly woman and kissed her cheek. "I'll always treasure it."

* * *

><p>Despite the heartbreak various members of the WyattBoleyn family had brought her over the years, Mary was saddened by the news of the death of her former stepmother. Along with Philip, Nicholas, Alexandra, and young Elizabeth, she attended Anne's funeral.

It was a simple but heartfelt ceremony, one befitting a woman of her stature. As the vicar spoke, Mary relived in her mind the way her relationship with her father's second wife had evolved over the years. What had begun as bitter hatred and resentment had gradually changed to tolerance and then to a feeling of genuine friendship. Although she and Anne had drifted apart somewhat since George's death, she still felt a keen sense of loss.

Philip held her hand as they walked away from the grave, which neighbored those of the two Thomas Wyatts. Mary glanced over at her son and his wife, both of whom walked a short distance away with lowered heads. Although they'd hardly known Anne Boleyn, they'd attended her funeral out of respect. Mary reflected that as she got older and older, there seemed to be more and more funerals to attend.

* * *

><p>Weeping bitterly, Nan Wyatt collided with a man who was walking in the opposite direction. "Please forgive me," she mumbled, deeply embarrassed. "I'm very sorry!"<p>

"That's quite all right." Through her tears Nan looked at his handsome face and felt strangely comforted by his friendly smile. "Do you require assistance?"

"No, but it's very kind of you to ask. I am simply deeply saddened by the death of my stepmother."

"I didn't know Anne Boleyn very well, but she was my mother's cousin," the man told Nan.

"Really? You're a Boleyn?" Nan was suddenly very curious.

The man shook his head. "A Howard. My mother's name was Katherine."


	64. Whatever Happened To Katherine Howard?

"Katherine Howard! I've heard of her," Nan replied. "She was married to the late King at one time, was she not?"

"Indeed she was," the man replied. "It was the fact that she was with child that saved her life, as she was nearly executed for adultery. I was that child. My name is Thomas." He smiled and extended his hand. Nan offered her own, and he kissed it.

"It's nice to meet you, Thomas," she said. "I'm Anne Wyatt, the daughter of Thomas Wyatt and stepdaughter of Anne Boleyn. She raised me as her own, alongside her daughter, Elizabeth. I can scarce believe she's really gone."

"I'm very sorry for your loss," Thomas told her.

"Thank you," said Nan. "Is your mother still alive?"

"Fortunately, yes," Thomas replied. She's all I have. All I've ever had, as my father died before I was born."

"Who was your father?" asked Nan.

"His name was Thomas Culpepper," said Thomas. "He was Gentleman of the Privy Chambers to the King. That was how he and my mother met and fell in love. As she was already married to the King and presumably sharing his bed, there's at least theoretically a chance that the King himself is my true father, although my mother has always told me that in her heart she knows I'm really a Culpepper. She says I resemble her lost love too much for it to be otherwise."

Nan noticed that his eyes were a clear steel blue. They made her heart beat faster. "Was it his affair with your mother that led to his death, then?"

Thomas nodded. "The King found out about it and had him arrested and sent to the Tower immediately. My mother was arrested a short time later, but as she was with child, the King had her banished to a convent. I was born there, amongst the sisters, where I had very little contact with any males at all, until my mother was reunited with Francis Dereham, with whom she'd been in love before marrying the King. She and Francis wed, and he raised me as his own, along with the son and daughter he and my mother had together."

"We have something in common, then, as I was also raised by a stepparent," Nan observed.

"Have you never wed, then?" asked Thomas.

Nan shook her head. "All my life I devoted to caring for my parents in their later years. Now that they're both g-gone, I suppose I shall have to find a new purpose for my life."

"You are still very lovely to look upon," Thomas told her. "Chances are excellent you may yet wed."

Nan blushed, flattered by his compliment. "And yourself, sir. You have never wed either?"

Thomas looked flustered. "Due to the question over my paternity and the reputation of the man who is most likely my father, no man desired for his daughter to be wed to 'the Howard bastard'."

"Why, that isn't your fault!" Nan protested.

"Nevertheless, that fact doesn't seem to matter to most," Thomas replied. "Although, perhaps it's simply that the right woman hasn't come along yet."

"That may indeed be the case." Nan smiled.

* * *

><p>Well into middle age by now, Katherine Howard had long ago lost her girlish figure. Snow white locks framed a gently lined face in which the blue eyes were still bright, and her step, though somewhat slowed with age, was still graceful. Francis had aged gracefully as well, and although by now completely white-haired, his breast still burned with passion for his beloved wife.<p>

"Our firstborn arrives, and I do believe he brings a lady along with him," Francis told his wife one day.

"Thomas? A lady?" Katherine was startled. Although her older son had had dalliances from time to time in youth, his mother hadn't known him to be keeping company with a woman for some time now.

Yet here he was now, opening the door, with Nan in tow.

"Mother? Father? This is Anne Wyatt, daughter of Thomas Wyatt and stepdaughter of Anne Boleyn," he told his parents.

"And sister to the recently executed Thomas Wyatt the Younger," Katherine stated.

"Yes, ma'am." Nan said softly, looking down.

"Why, you poor thing!" Katherine reached to embrace the younger woman. "And it was all over religion, was it not?"

"Yes, ma'am. My brother wanted to see Protestantism instated as the national religion."

Katherine shook her head. "Not a thing worth losing one's head over, if you ask me."

Nan didn't know what to say. She didn't want to show disloyalty to her late brother, but neither did she want to disagree with Thomas' mother.

"Never mind. I know just how you feel, dear. I once lost someone to whom I was very close the same way."

Relieved, Nan smiled. She had a feeling that she and Katherine Howard were going to get along very well.


	65. Elizabeth Visits Anne Of Cleves

Elizabeth was pleased to hear of the betrothal of her stepsister, Nan Wyatt, to Thomas Howard, the son of her first cousin, once removed, Katherine Howard. Although no longer prominent in court, the Howards were still regarded as a distinguished family, their familial tie to the Boleyns earning them prestige and honor.

As her wedding day approached, Nan became anxious over one thing. One beautiful afternoon, she and Thomas were strolling in a grassy knoll when she brought the subject up.

"As I am somewhat advanced in years, I fear that I may no longer be able to bear children," she said.

"That matters not to me," Thomas assured her. "I will be thrilled if you bear me sons and daughters, but if that never happens, I shall be content for it to be just the two of us." Nan felt relief sweep over her as her heart swelled with love for her intended.

They were married a short time later in a small chapel in the countryside. Only a few close family members and friends attended, including Thomas' half siblings, William and Eleanor. Afterwards, Thomas took Nan to the small but comfortable cottage he'd prepared for them to dwell in.

"I hope that it meets your expectations," he said a bit nervously.

"Oh, yes! It's very nice," she replied. There was a parlor with a couple of chairs and a comfortable looking sofa, and also a kitchen with a small table and a couple of chairs, which also contained a big sack of grain and various dried meats hanging from hooks. There was also a bedroom with a large four-poster bed.

Nan leisurely walked from room to room, examining the contents of each. How well she recalled working alongside her stepmother in the kitchen, or spinning wool to make cloth! Now at last she had her own home to care for and personalize by adding her own touch to.

One chapter of her life had ended, and another had just begun.

* * *

><p>"Someone is coming to visit us, Mother," Philip Brandon told his mother, the former Anne of Cleves. Following the death of her husband the King, she'd married his close friend, Charles Brandon, whose wife Katherine had died of the sweating sickness. She'd raised his older son, Henry, as her own, and she'd given Charles three additional children, Philip and twin girls named Sarah and Sybil.<p>

Now very elderly, Anne was deaf in one ear and almost completely blind, but her mind was still as sharp as ever.

"Who is it?" she asked her son.

"It's a woman with red hair accompanied by a man who looks like a gypsy," Philip replied as he peeked out the window. His mother had named him after her favorite cousin, Philip of Bavaria, the current Prince Consort.

"We're Robert and Elizabeth Dudley, come to visit the Dowager Queen," Robert told Philip after he'd opened the door.

"Why, Bess! How good to see you again!" Anne exclaimed feebly.

"Anna!" Elizabeth went to her former stepmother and embraced her. "I bring sad news, however," she continued. "My dear mother passed away only several weeks ago, and I have just now been able to bring myself to journey to visit you and let you know."

"Dearest Anne!" the Dowager Queen exclaimed. Following Henry's death, the two women had become acquainted and eventually grown to be good friends. "I hope that her passing was easy and painless."

"Indeed it was," Elizabeth assured her.

"I hope that my own will be as well, as it certainly must be close at hand," Anne replied.

"Please don't talk that way, Mother," Philip urged her.

* * *

><p>It turned out that Nan Wyatt Howard's worries had been all for naught, as only a few short months after her wedding, it became apparent that she was with child.<p>

Due to her age, she had a more difficult pregnancy than was typical, yet she managed to carry it to term successfully. She had a long, difficult labor, during which Thomas feared he'd have to summon the priest to administer last rites more than once, and when at last it was all over, she lay in bed pale and exhausted, holding her perfectly healthy son to her breast.

"Shall he be a third Thomas?" she asked her smiling husband, who sat at her side.

"I was thinking of perhaps George, for the recently deceased Prince Consort who was also my mother's first cousin," Thomas replied.

"George it is, then," Nan agreed.


	66. Mary, Queen Of Scots

"Please, Your Majesty, you must help me!" Mary, Queen of Scots, begged her much older cousin, Mary of England. "They have imprisoned me and taken away my throne. It was only with the assistance of dear George Douglas that I was able to escape Loch Leven and find my way to your blessed country. Your Majesty, I know that you are a faithful servant of the Lord and true to the faith. Won't you please help me to get my throne back?"

Mary of England was shocked. "But who has taken your throne from you, and why did they do so?"

"It was the confederate lords, Your Highness. They have accused me of conspiring to murder my husband, Lord Darnley, but I am innocent." Tears rolled down the younger woman's cheeks. "It's true that we didn't get along well at all. I could never forgive him for his part in the murder of my beloved David Rizzio, but I never would have murdered him."

"I believe you," Mary of England said soothingly. "I know that you are a strong woman in the faith as well. I promise that I will do all I can to win your throne back for you. Who holds it now?"

"It has been given to my four-year-old son, James, and my brother, the Earl of Moray, is his regent. He intends to raise my son in heresy, and I cannot let that happen!"

"Most assuredly not," Mary of England agreed. "You may stay safely here in England for as long as you wish, and in the meantime, I shall raise an army to invade Scotland."

Mary of Scotland dwelt comfortably at Whitehall Palace and quickly became acquainted with Philip, Nicholas, and Alexandra.

"I shall be happy to help you in your effort to defeat Moray and restore Scotland to its rightful heir," Nicholas declared when he heard of his mother's plans.

"I shan't hear of it!" Mary of England declared. "With your bleeding disease, there's no way you could survive even the mildest of battle wounds!"

"I'm _sick _of hearing about my bleeding disease!" Frustrated, Nicholas paced back and forth like a caged animal. "Because of it, I've been treated like an invalid for my entire life! I'm a grown man now, and shall be the King of England some day! What kind of King can't even ride into battle?"

"I refuse to listen to one more word of this!" Nicholas' mother exclaimed. "As your monarch, I forbid you from accompanying my army to Scotland!"

Much later, Nicholas and Alexandra cuddled together after making love in their bedchambers. "Your mother is right, darling," Alexandra told her husband. "I know how important this is to you, but it would be disastrous for England to lose its only male heir, let alone how badly it would hurt Elizabeth to lose her father and me to lose the only man I shall ever love."

"I know it's a risk," Nicholas admitted. "But it's one I'm prepared to take. When I become King, such missions shall sometimes be required of me."

* * *

><p>Mary of England had soon gathered the forces necessary for a successful invasion of Scotland. Nicholas accompanied the army in disguise. Although she felt very guilty about helping to deceive the Queen, Alexandra supported her husband in his decision to join the fight.<p>

Northward the army marched, until they reached Cumberland, then crossed the Solway Firth into Scotland and began their long march toward Edinburgh. Moray's armies proved to be no match for those of England, and the Scottish ruler soon found himself alone except for the ragtag band of loyal supporters who hadn't yet deserted him in fear of their lives. Defeated, he conceded the throne back to Mary of Scots, upon which occasion Mary of England gave a speech of triumph.

"I came amongst you at this time, not for my recreation and disport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live and die amongst you all; to lay down for my God, and for my kingdom, and my people, my honor and my blood, even in the dust. I know I have the body but of a weak and feeble woman, but I have the heart and stomach of a King, and of a King of England, too. I know already, for your forwardness you have deserved rewards and crowns, and they shall be duly paid you."

Mary was about to return to England with her armies when she was alerted that one of her soldiers was bleeding severely from a minor sword wound in the thigh.

"Normally the bleeding would have ceased long ago, yet the wound continues to gush blood as if it had been freshly made," the messenger told her. "We're puzzled and very frightened. None of us have ever seen a situation such as this, even from a much more serious wound."

Mary felt first shock, then fury; yet both were soon eclipsed by an overwhelming fear.


	67. Our Son Will Not Die

Right away, she realized that her only son had defied her and entered the battle anyway.

"Take me to him!" she demanded.

She'd never seen Nicholas looking as pale and weak as he did when she saw him next, lying barely alive in an unfamiliar bed in a foreign country. The very thought of her son dying on strange soil was most abhorrent of all to her.

"Why did you have to do it, Nicky?" Tears flowed unchecked from her eyes and dripped from her chin as she knelt beside the bed upon which her son lay. "Why?"

"Why is any man prepared to lay down his life for a cause in which he believes?" Nicholas could barely talk.

"But in a situation such as your own, where death will almost certainly be the result of even the slightest injury..."

"That is when the willingness to lay down one's life becomes even further proof of one's devotion to the cause for which one fights..."

"You have no son, Nicholas, and your daughter is but a child. As noble a cause as defending the Scottish crown against heresy is, is it worth sacrificing the kingdom of our beloved England?"

"That would not have been the case at all," Nicholas replied. "Any one of my sisters would have been perfectly capable of serving as regent until Elizabeth is of age..." Nicholas' eyes rolled up into his head.

Mary shrieked and grabbed her son's arm. "Nicky!"

A priest was summoned to administer last rites to the prince. As Mary sat waiting in despair, the form of her first husband appeared before her. "George!" she exclaimed, automatically rushing to embrace him, then suddenly remembering.

"God has seen your tears and heard your prayers," George told Mary. "Do not grieve. Our son will not die." Before Mary could respond, he was gone.

The priest arrived a few minutes later. "Thank you for coming, but my son will not require your services," Mary told him.

The priest looked at Nicholas doubtfully, then shook his head in resignation and walked away.

* * *

><p>Nicholas' recovery was painfully slow. After the bleeding eased and then finally stopped, he lay helplessly in bed for many days, barely strong enough even to feed himself. During his lengthy recuperation, his mother got to know her younger cousin better.<p>

"My first cousin, King Francis II of France, was the great love of my life," Mary of Scots told her cousin. "I was only sixteen when we wed, and we had just a year and a half of happiness together before he fell ill and died. Five years later, I became infatuated with Lord Darnley and married him, but once I realized his true nature, my love for him died. How I miss my dear David Rizzio! He was my closest friend during my disastrous marriage to Darnley, but my husband became jealous and had him killed. Besides the loss of Francis, that was the worst thing that ever happened to me."

"It sounds as if you have indeed seen more than your share of tragedy," Mary of England said in sympathy. "When I lost my darling George, I thought that I would never be happy again, but then I became reacquainted with Philip, and he helped me to see that there was still joy to be found in life, after all. I hope that you too will find love again."

"Speaking of which, I have a proposition for you," the younger woman replied. "If you're in agreement, I'd like to arrange a marriage between my son James and your granddaughter Elizabeth. As my James is in line to inherit the Scottish throne, and your Elizabeth, barring the birth of any younger brothers, is in line to inherit that of England, I feel that it would be a splendid way to unite the two kingdoms."

"It sounds like a marvelous idea to me," the older woman replied.

As soon as Nicholas was well enough to travel, Mary and her son returned to England.

"My Nicky!" Alexandra cried, rushing to her husband's side and covering him with kisses. "I missed you so!"

"If this is the welcome that I am to receive upon my return, perhaps I should go away more often," Nicholas teased.

"Please do not say such things, my love!" Alexandra begged.

Nicholas took her face between both his hands and passionately kissed her lips. "Our Elizabeth has been offered the hand of the future King James VI of Scotland in marriage."

"A King!" Alexandra exclaimed. "Well, we could hardly hope for a better match for her, could we?"

"Indeed," Nicholas agreed with a grin, thinking fondly of the things he wanted to do with his wife the next time the two of them were alone together.


	68. Ambrose

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," the minister intoned, sprinkling a handful of dirt over the freshly dug grave of Baroness Elizabeth Tailboys. Elizabeth's husband, Ambrose Dudley, stood beside the grave, his head hung heavy in grief. Beside Ambrose stood his younger brother, Robert, and Robert's wife, Elizabeth.

"Now I've lost two wives," Ambrose said. "I thought I'd never be happy again when I lost my sweet Anne. Then Elizabeth came along, and the sun shone again, but now she's gone as well. I feel that there's nothing left to live for."

"But of course there is," Elizabeth told him. "Your nieces and nephews adore you." Ambrose's only daughter had died shortly before his first wife had, and he'd never had any more children.

"I know," Ambrose replied. "I just don't know how I'm going to be able to go on living without my Elizabeth."

Elizabeth clung tightly to Robert. The thought of losing the love of her life terrified her as well.

"He seems so distraught," Elizabeth said to Robert later, when they were alone. "I wish I could do something to help him."

"Why don't you talk to your sister," Robert suggested. "Perhaps she could offer him some titles with accompanying responsibilities that would help take his mind off his loss."

Elizabeth went to visit Mary a few days later. "My brother-in-law, Ambrose, recently lost his second wife and is heartbroken. I was hoping that perhaps you could do something to help take his mind off his heartbreak."

"I would suggest a venture beyond our shores for a time," Mary said thoughtfully. "Scotland, perhaps."

"Scotland sounds perfect!" Elizabeth agreed. "Perhaps we could all go there as a family."

Elizabeth returned to her own family and shared the news that her sister had recommended a trip to Scotland.

"Scotland!" young Robert exclaimed. "I've never been there before!"

"It's a lovely country," his mother told him. "There are mountains, much taller than the ones here in England, and fields of beautiful flowers, and men who play bagpipes."

"What are bagpipes?" asked Rachel.

"It's a bag with pipes attached to it," her mother told her. "You blow into one of the pipes, and it plays music that sounds completely different from any kind you've ever heard before."

"Are there bears?" asked Lydia, who was terrified of wild animals.

"Of course not," her older brother told her.

"I hope I get to see a mountain lion!" exclaimed Andrew.

"I'm sure there will be all kinds of animals," said Rachel. "Right, Robert?" She and her siblings considered the oldest Dudley sibling to be an expert on such matters.

"'Course there will," Robert assured her.

The family set out soon afterwards. They traveled by carriage, admiring the scenery along the way. The journey took two weeks, and the family rejoiced when the Stirling Castle came into view.

* * *

><p>Mary, Queen of Scots, stood on a balcony looking down upon the grounds below, where Robert and Elizabeth Dudley and Robert's brother Ambrose were riding horses. Suddenly Ambrose's horse's hoof hit a large rock and it tripped, throwing its rider several feet. Ambrose lay perfectly still, sprawled on the ground at an awkward angle.<p>

Mary's feet seemed to have wings as they flew down the stairway and onto the grounds, where Robert and Elizabeth were already kneeling beside the fallen man.

"His head is bleeding!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"He must be examined right away!" Mary cried.

Within moments, Ambrose's unconscious form had been placed on a flat board and carried into the castle. Robert, Elizabeth, and Mary followed anxiously. As soon as the injured man was placed in a soft bed, the physician was summoned and soon arrived to examine him.

"His vitals are normal, but he has suffered a severe head injury and possibly a concussion and brain damage," the physician announced. "Whether or not he ever awakens will depend upon how severe his injury is. I shall summon a priest to administer last rites in case the worst comes to pass."

"No! He can't die!" Mary sobbed. "My darling Francis fell from a horse when he died, and I can't bear the thought of the same thing happening again."

"All we can do is hope," the physician told her.

For several days, Ambrose lay suspended between life and death. Mary never left his side, taking her meals in his bedchambers and even sleeping there. On the third day, Ambrose finally opened his eyes.

"I'm...thirsty..." he stammered.

"You're awake!" Mary exclaimed happily. "I shall fetch you some water right away." Within seconds a servant arrived with a glass of water, and Mary helped Ambrose to sit up so that he could drink it. Quickly he drank the entire glass, then emptied another, then drank most of a third. When he'd finished, he looked at Mary with puzzled eyes.

"Where am I?" he asked. "What happened?"

"You're in Sterling Castle," Mary told him. "You were thrown from a horse and hit your head three days ago. Your brother and sister-in-law and I have been ever so worried about you!"

Ambrose was puzzled. "But who are you?"

"I am Mary, Queen of Scots," Mary told him. "I witnessed your accident from my balcony and fetched my own personal physician to care for you."

"You're a _Queen?" _Ambrose stared in amazement.

* * *

><p>"It's obvious that she cares deeply for him," Elizabeth said to Robert when they were alone.<p>

"Indeed," Robert replied.

"There would be definite advantages to Scotland's having a Protestant consort," Elizabeth continued. "It would help to pacify the Huguenots and appease the anger of John Knox and his followers."

"Indeed it would," Robert agreed.

"With that in mind, I shall suggest such a union to my sister upon our return to England," Elizabeth decided.

Robert grinned. He liked the idea of his brother being in a position of such power.


	69. Smallpox

"I most certainly am!" Mary of Scots told Ambrose with a smile.

The Englishman's right hand slowly traveled to her face, where he gently touched her cheek. "You're...you're beautiful!"

"Thank you."

"Yet surely you're an illusion caused by the muddled condition of my brain, considering how painfully my head pounds right now."

"I assure you that I am quite real," Mary chuckled.

"And you are the monarch of all of Scotland?"

"Indeed I am."

"And I have lain here for three days?"

"To me it seems more like three weeks."

"The last thing I remember was riding horses with 'Robert and Elizabeth...where are they?"

"Awaiting word on your condition. I shall fetch them momentarily."

Robert and Elizabeth entered the room to see Ambrose sitting up in bed.

"It is wonderful to see you awake again, my brother," Robert told him.

"You gave us quite a scare," added Elizabeth.

"I am quite hungry," Ambrose told them. "Will you please fetch me something to eat?"

* * *

><p>Robert and Elizabeth stayed in Scotland until Ambrose was well on the way to recovery, then returned with their family to England. They were almost home when Elizabeth complained of feeling tired and weak. Alarmed, Robert summoned the physician as soon as they were home.<p>

"She has smallpox," the physician said gravely. "You must take the children somewhere safe immediately, and pray that they haven't already become infected."

"My God!" Robert exclaimed. Tears filled his eyes as he gazed into the heavens. "Please don't let her die!"

He took the children and went to stay in the country with them, while his sister, Mary Sidney, graciously offered to care for Elizabeth during her illness.

"We have only now returned home, and already we have to leave again," Rachel grumbled as the carriage rolled along.

"It is only because Mama is so ill," her brother, Robert, told her. "The physician has sent us away so that we won't become sick as well."

Rachel's eyes grew round with fear. "But what if Mama dies?"

"We must pray to God to save her," her brother replied.

"Oh, I shall! Every night!" Rachel exclaimed. "Lydia and Andrew shall as well, wont' you?" she asked her younger brother and sister, who both nodded enthusiastically.

As the family journeyed to the estate in the countryside at which they'd be staying, young Robert's thoughts turned to his favorite cousin, Anastasia Romanova. After the threat of the plague had ended, she and her family had returned to Russia. He missed her and wondered how she was faring. He decided to write to her as soon as they reached their destination.

* * *

><p>Ambrose's recovery was slow at first, as he suffered frequent headaches and often became confused, forgetting from one day to the next what had happened the day before. His memory of events from the distant past, however, remained flawless.<p>

One day he and Mary were walking together in the garden of Sterling Palace when they began to talk about their memories of their previous lives.

"I haven't felt this way since the last time I spoke with my beloved David Rizzio," Mary told Ambrose as they strolled along. "That dumb brute of a man whom I married, Lord Darnley, became jealous and had him murdered before my very eyes."

"Oh, no!" Ambrose gasped. "How terrible for you!"

Mary nodded. "I was pregnant with my son James at the time."

Ambrose wondered whether Rizzio or Darnley was James' true father but didn't ask, as he didn't want to appear to be questioning the Queen's morality.

"James is Darnley's," Mary continued, as if she'd read his mind. "Although I wish with all my heart that he was David's."

Ambrose suspected that she wanted him to reciprocate, although he felt that his own story was nowhere near as interesting as hers had been. "I was barely twenty years of age when I married my first love, Anne Whorwood," he told Mary. "We had one sweet babe, a darling little girl, but she only lived a few days. Soon after her death, I lost Anne as well, to the sweating sickness. I was married again later, to Lady Elizabeth Tailboys, but she passed away recently as well."

"It sounds as if we've both certainly had our share or sorrow and loss," Mary observed. "Yet it is loss that causes us to hold more precious what remains, is it not?"

The sun's light shining on her soft blonde hair and the way her blue eyes shone made Ambrose think she was more beautiful than ever. On impulse, he took her face between his hands and kissed her lips.

* * *

><p>For nearly a week Robert was consumed with worry about his wife. Barely able to eat or sleep, he anxiously awaited word on her condition, his only respite being the care of his children. Then one day he saw Elizabeth, perfectly healthy and whole, approaching him from a distance.<p>

With a whoop of joy, he rushed to meet her, only to find that she wasn't Elizabeth at all, but another woman who strongly resembled his wife. Although disappointed, he smiled politely.

"Robert Dudley?" the woman asked.

"At your service," Robert replied.

"I am your wife's first cousin's daughter. My name is Lettice Knollys," the woman told him.


	70. Lettice

"Do you bring news of my darling Elizabeth?" Robert asked hopefully.

"I'm so sorry, but I do not," Lettice told him. "I bring only an offer of companionship, and of assistance with your affairs."

"I'm not sure of how much assistance you could be with my affairs, but the offer of companionship is much appreciated," Robert said gratefully. He'd been so very lonely without his Elizabeth, and Lettice reminded him so of his beloved wife. "The children and I were just about to go berry picking. Would you like to come along?"

"Oh, yes!" Lettice exclaimed.

"Come, children, and meet your mother's cousin, Lettice," Robert called to his children, who all came running. "This is Robert, Rachel, Lydia, and Andrew," he told Lettice.

"Hello," the children said politely.

"Are we off, then?" asked Robert. They all grabbed baskets and headed for the woods.

Soon Young Robert found himself daydreaming about the last time he'd gone berry picking with Anastasia. She'd eaten almost as many berries as she'd put in her basket, and he'd teased her that if she kept eating them, there would be none left over for the pie her mother was planning to make.

In response she'd dumped her entire basket full over his head and then dashed away. He'd run after her and quickly caught her. The sight of her laughing face smeared with dark red berry juice had enticed him to kiss her, their very first kiss.

"Thinking about Anastasia again?" Rachel's merry voice jolted her brother out of his revery.

"Don't be silly," Robert grumbled, quickly beginning to pick berries.

"I know you like her," Rachel teased in a sing-song voice.

Robert gave his sister a smoldering glare, then returned to the task at hand.

Meanwhile, Lettice was picking berries a few feet away when she saw the smooth black scales of a small snake slither by. An involuntary scream escaped her lips as she ran away as quickly as her legs could carry her. Almost immediately, she tripped over a large tree root and went flying.

"Lettice! Are you all right?" Robert had heard her scream and came running.

"S-s-snake," Lettice stammered through chattering teeth.

"Where?" Robert demanded.

"B-b-back th-th-there..." Lettice pointed in the general direction from which she'd run.

Robert gave the region a quick glance-over. "I think it's gone now."

Lettice was struggling to her feet. Her clothing was dirty and torn, and her face and hands were covered with scratches.

"Oh, you poor dear!" Robert exclaimed. "Can you walk?"

"I'm not sure," Lettice replied. "My ankle hurts." Robert picked her up and carried her back to the cottage. Young Robert and Rachel watched, their mouths agape with dismay. As soon as the adults had disappeared inside, they silently went after them.

They entered the cottage to find Lettice resting on the sofa as Robert gently cleaned her wounds and put salve on them. Wordlessly, they took their baskets into the kitchen.

"I don't like this at all," Robert whispered to his sister.

"Me neither," Rachel whispered back.

* * *

><p>Desire coursed through Mary's body as she returned Ambrose's kiss with equal fervor. A moment later, they parted to gaze into one another's eyes. "I never imagined that I would feel such fondness for another as I do for you," Ambrose told Mary.<p>

"Nor did I for you," Mary replied.

Ambrose felt a surge of joy within his soul. He longed to ask Mary for her hand in marriage, but as she was a Queen, he wasn't at all sure if that would be proper.

"As the ruler of all of Scotland, I need a consort at my side to help me rule as well as to provide me with companionship," Mary continued. "I would be honored if you would agree to fill the position."

"Oh, yes!" Ambrose exclaimed.

Their joy was short-lived, however, as Ambrose soon had to inform Mary that their wedding would have to be postponed.

"My sister-in-law, Elizabeth, has smallpox," he explained. "I cannot celebrate and be merry with my brother Robert so distraught. We will simply have to wait until she has recovered to proceed with our nuptials."

"Oh, I do hope she recovers soon!" Mary exclaimed.

* * *

><p>Lettice recovered quickly from her injuries and soon fit comfortably into the family unit. Except for Young Robert and Rachel, who were ever wary of her, the Dudleys regarded her as a welcome distraction from the solemnity of Elizabeth's illness.<p>

One night several days after the berry picking incident, the children were in bed and Robert was sitting in the living room reading when, succumbing to a long-term desire, Lettice dashed into the dressing room to do her hair up as attractively as possible, then returned to the kitchen, where she poured a glass of wine and took it into the living room.

"Would you like some wine?" she asked Robert sweetly.

"Why, yes!" Robert took the glass she offered him. "Thank you!"

"You're quite welcome." She smiled as she sat in a chair across from him. "What are you reading?"

"Charlemagne."

A few minutes later, she slipped to the floor beside him, where she removed his shoes and began to massage his feet. He moaned with pleasure, and she looked up to see him smiling. "Would you like some more wine?" she asked.

* * *

><p>Rachel knocked silently on her brother's bedroom door. "Robert!" she whispered urgently.<p>

She had to knock several more times before he finally opened the door so that she could slip in. "What is it?" he asked irritably.

"It's Lettice!" Rachel whispered. "She's up to no good! Didn't you see the look in her eyes at dinner?"

"I've no idea what you're going on about," Robert mumbled crossly.

"Just come with me!" Rachel urged, taking her brother's hand.

They reached the living room just as Robert and Lettice were about to kiss.


	71. The Kite

"No!" shouted Rachel.

Robert and Lettice turned to stare at her, startled.

"How _could _you, Papa?" Rachel began to cry. "What about Mama?"

"Out!" Young Robert shouted angrily to Lettice. "Leave my house this instant! How _dare _you take what rightfully belongs to my mother!"

"It's not your house; it's your father's house," Lettice retorted. "And he wishes for me to stay."

"Do you, Papa?" Robert asked his father.

"What?" Robert Senior was obviously quite inebriated.

"You've been giving my father drink so that you can take advantage of him," young Robert accused, brandishing the bottle of wine at Lettice, threatening her with it. "And if you don't leave right away, you'll be sorry!"

Lettice glared at him but headed for the door. "I _am _your mother's cousin," she reminded Robert.

"That means nothing to me," he replied. "I love my mother very much, and I'll not have her replaced in my father's affections."

Young Robert and Rachel both sighed in relief when Lettice was gone.

"Come, Papa." Robert took his father by the arm and led him toward his bedroom. "You'll feel better in the morning."

* * *

><p>Elizabeth opened her eyes and looked around to see that she was once again in her own familiar bedroom. At first she couldn't remember how she'd gotten home from Scotland, and then the memories came flooding back to her: she'd taken ill, and Robert and the children had been sent away so that they wouldn't catch her sickness.<p>

"Oh, good! You're awake!" Elizabeth turned her head to see the kind face of her sister-in-law, Mary Sidney. Quickly Mary felt Elizabeth's forehead.

"Thank God! The fever's broken!" she exclaimed.

"Could I please have something to drink?" Elizabeth asked weakly.

Quickly Mary fetched her a glass of water, which she quickly drained and asked for a refill.

Later that day, Robert and the children were sent for. "Mama!" the children cried excitedly, embracing their mother in turn.

"Darling!" Robert exclaimed, holding his wife close. His strong arms around her, his musky scent, made her feel warm and secure. As he held her, the thought of how close he'd come to losing her made her more dear than ever to him.

The day was spent in joyous celebration as Elizabeth held each of her children close and heard the details of the time they'd spent without her. Even Robert allowed his mother to hug him and kiss his cheek. Lettice wasn't mentioned.

Robert thought that Elizabeth was asleep when he came to bed that night, but she smiled and held her arms out to him. "Oh, darling, I've missed you so much!" he exclaimed as he went into them. Right away his lips were on hers, their tongues were entwined, and their hands were all over one another's bodies. His searching hand slid beneath her gown and cupped one breast, his fingers gently teasing the nipple until it was erect and throbbing, straining against the material of her gown. The next moment, the gown was off, and his fingers slipped inside her panties, stimulating the sensitive skin between her thighs, getting her ready for him. She moaned and sighed, giving an excited grunt when his finger found her most sensitive spot.

He grasped her panties and tugged them off, and then he was inside her. They climaxed together only seconds later, then fell asleep in one another's arms.

* * *

><p>"I'm glad we came out today," Alexandra said to her husband.<p>

"It's a lovely day for a picnic," Nicholas agreed. He, his wife, and their daughter were enjoying a leisurely day in a clearing in the woods by a lake. Flowers were blooming, birds were singing, and everyone was in a sanguine mood. Nicholas and Alexandra sat on a quilt beneath the shade of a tree while Elizabeth flew her kite.

Suddenly a gust of wind lifted the kite and swept it into the branches of a tree. Elizabeth tugged at the string, and it broke, leaving the kite securely nestled within the branches.

"My kite!" Elizabeth was near tears. Nicholas saw where his daughter was pointing and quickly jumped to his feet. Realizing what her husband was about to do, Alexandra cried out in alarm.

"No, Nicky! If you fall, you'll die!"

"It's only a couple of branches up," Nicholas replied. "I'll have it in no time."

A few seconds later, he was handing the kite down to his grateful daughter. "Thank you, Papa!" Elizabeth grinned.

Nicholas was almost to the bottom branch when his foot slipped, plummeting him to the ground, where his head promptly hit a large stone.

* * *

><p>The funeral for Nicholas, the only son and heir of Queen Mary, was second only to that of his father in its extravagance and grandiosity. His mother sobbed brokenly in her husband's arms.<p>

"I simply can't _believe _he did it!" she wept. "He knew that, with his bleeding disorder, such a mishap would mean his death! And yet he did it anyway, for the sake of a _kite, _a bloody _kite!"_

"It wasn't for the kite's sake," Philip gently corrected her. "It was for Elizabeth's sake. It was only for her."

Nearby, young Elizabeth was absolutely inconsolable. "Papa died because of me," she told her mother. "If I hadn't been flying my kite, it never would have gotten caught in that tree, and he never would have climbed it!"

"It was an accident, sweetheart." In the midst of her own deep grief, Alexandra struggled to comfort her young daughter. "There's no way you could have known what was going to happen. You mustn't blame yourself."

The entire nation mourned its golden child, the sickly but benevolent Nicholas. It would be many months before its bereaved citizens would even begin to recover from their tremendous loss.


	72. Epilogue

**September 18, 1597**

Queen Mary, by now crippled and nearly blind, spent most of her days lying in bed in a partially lucid state. She'd never recovered from the bitter blow of the loss of her only son, and the passing of her consort Philip several years previously had also left a deep scar.

At half past six on September 18, Mary's granddaughter, Elizabeth, sat at her side, trying her best to keep her grandmother as comfortable as possible. "My feet are so cold," Mary complained.

"Here's another blanket," said Elizabeth, tucking it around her grandmother's feet. "Can I get you anything else?"

"Water..." Mary croaked.

"Of course, Grandmother." Elizabeth gently raised and supported her head so that she could drink. Suddenly Mary's eyes seemed more alive than they had in many months.

"Bessie! Can you see them?"

"To whom do you refer?" Elizabeth was puzzled.

"All of them! Your dear father, your grandfather George, my darling Philip, and...why, here's my mother! Oh, Mother, I haven't seen you in _so_ long!" Mary's eyes remained bright for a moment longer, then went blank. Sobbing quietly, Elizabeth gently closed her eyelids.

* * *

><p>On September 21, Mary, wearing a dress of yellow, the Spanish color of mourning, was placed into her coffin. One of George's dressing gowns was placed by her side, and a lock of Philip's hair was placed in her left hand. Her funeral was held on October 12, and after several days of lying in state, she was interred in Westminster Abbey beside George.<p>

* * *

><p>England's new Queen, Elizabeth I, succeeded the throne on February 22, 1598, four days after what would have been her late grandmother's eighty-second birthday. She was crowned and anointed by John May, the Bishop of Carlisle, and then presented for the people's acceptance with much ado.<p>

"The burden that is fallen upon me makes me amazed, and yet considering I am God's creature, ordained to obey His appointment, I will thereto yield, desiring from the bottom of my heart that I may have assistance of His grace to be the minister of His heavenly will now committed to me," she said. "I mean to direct all my actions by good advice and counsel."

Her husband and consort, James VI of Scotland, stood proudly at her side, his eyes shining with pride and love. Young Robert Dudley stood happily looking on with his wife, the former Anastasia Romanova, who'd traveled from Russia to marry him some years previously. The rest of the Dudleys, as well as many other prominent citizens, joined Robert and Anastasia in celebration. A new day had dawned for their beloved country.

_Many thanks to everyone who read and reviewed this story. :)_


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